Spring Forward
by ZombieJazz
Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still miles apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship, and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale. This is a continuation of Onward Thankfully, set a few months down the road.
1. Given Assignments

**Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted), Hereafter, and Onward Thankfully. This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

"Hank," Platt hollered as soon as she saw Hank charge up the stairs and in the door. Doing his beeline for the secure entrance – trying to avoid being noticed.

He would've done better going in the back. She'd been in wait for him that morning. She'd thought she wouldn't get the chance to grab him until later in the day. That she'd likely have to corner him in his office and get grumbled at even more than he grumbled about anything. She didn't really care. She'd known him far more than long enough to know that if you weren't on the wrong side of the law – or the cage or the interrogation room table – his bark was usually worse than his bite. Especially when it came to anything like she was about to yank his chain about. And she did have to yank it because he tried to pretend like he hadn't heard her and he didn't have any time to slow down for a few minutes. So, "It's about Erin," she added.

And the brakes got tapped. He jerked a bit in a way that showed his annoyance. Trudy could just about feel his usual huff about it. He'd given her his whole sour lemon face as he turned toward her. But she was used to seeing that gaze too. She had a well-practiced and well-creased one of her own staring at her in the mirror every time she took the chance to look in it. Sometimes it was just better not too.

"That got your attention, didn't it," was what she said to him, though, as he came over. She ignored those sour grapes of his as much as he'd tried to ignore her efforts to get his attention.

All she got out of him with that comment was some raised eyebrows. So she raised hers right back at him. She could play the annoyed sergeant game as good as him too.

He made a little sound, gave a little urgent nod and rolled his hand over at her. "C'mon, Trudy. Both got jobs to do."

She put her elbows down on the desk and looked him straight in the eye. "Six weeks until this baby shower is supposed to be happening, Hank. You've got to give me something to work with."

And he puckered some more at her and shook his head. "Don't know anything about it. Talk to Erin."

"Mmm …," she allowed and straightened, boring eyes into him even more. "See, she seems to feel that you're forcing this baby shower on her."

"Two infants. Cop salaries. They need a truck load of baby stuff," he shrugged.

And she just stared at him - and his interruption – again. Long and real hard. "And since this shower of yours," she stressed and he gave her a smack, "is happening here. She's of the opinion that you should be my contact point."

And that got another smack and a real look like his coffee had been pissed in. "Talk to Halstead."

And she put her elbows back on the countertop. "Detective Halstead has yet to officially acknowledge in the District that he's got his former partner shacked up and knocked up out of state."

And he gave her his own stare down but then pulled out his phone and looked at it. "Get you Olive's number." She supposed that was easier than the whole don't ask, don't tell thing that Halstead was keeping up even now – long in Erin's absence.

"Oh, I've talked to Olive," Platt said. "Her contribution thus far to this thought process is: insect theme."

"Hungry Caterpillar," Hank corrected with a smack. But Trudy only looked at him and he made another absent gesture. "She likely has leftover stuff kicking around from H's b-day."

Trudy only raised her eyebrow at him again. "And making finger sandwiches. Ladybugs—"

"Caterpillars," he graveled flatly.

"And cucumber sandwiches. Does that sound like a baby shower—"

"Don't know anything about baby showers, period."

"Then you're going to have to learn, Hank," she said, "real quick. Because you do know _**your daughter**_. And bugs and High Tea is not going to fly. But I need something to work with. Happy to do this for her but I can't pull this out of my ass over night. Guest list. Numbers – at least. I need to get something booked."

That got another grunt. Something resembling minor acknowledgement. "Can't McHolland talk to Hermann? Use Molly's?"

"Mmm …," she acknowledged back but looked at him squarely. "You want to host the baby shower of your pregnant daughter – carrying two of your grandchildren – at a bar. A skuzzy, dark bar that you usually refuse to set foot in."

He put his hand on the counter. "Listen, Trudy, do what you need to do. Host it at my place. At their place. Call Carmine's. He'll give you the backroom. Whatever makes sense."

"Mmm …," she acknowledged again and gave him a little nod. "And, I'd be happy to do that, Hank. But to make sense of any of this: guest. List."

And then he gestured upstairs. "Guest list."

She stared at him. "Everyone or the women? Because, in case you haven't noticed, you haven't really bridged the gender gap upstairs."

"Invite some of the women at Med, 51," he said.

"And friends?" Platt stressed at him plainly.

And he just looked at her. Looked like he really needed to consider that. Or he hadn't considered that.

"Erin has friends, Hank," she put together for him.

"Don't think there's many she'll be wanting to be announcing this to just yet," he grumbled but stared at his phone again, swiping his thumb around. "That Annie kid she's tight with. I'll reach out. See if Erin wants her in on this."

Platt put her elbows back on the counter and considered him as he keyed something into his phone. He was pretty clearly shooting a text off to Erin tout-suite on that one.

"Does she want this co-ed, Hank?" she asked again. "Do you?"

He gave her a glance and then shoved his phone back into his back pocket – apparently done and not expecting an instantaneous response from his girl. It'd be interesting to see if he did manage to get one. Because Trudy sure was having trouble getting Erin on the horn for any of this. At this rate, the thing wasn't just going to be a forced baby shower – that it might as well just get labeled as a surprise party. That wasn't going to be much of a surprise. And Erin hated surprises. But dragging her to this thing on false pretenses might be about the only way to get her to it at this rate.

Hank shrugged a bit. "I just want to make sure they're set up right. That mean it needs to be co-ed, fine. Or just pass the hat around some."

Platt nodded. "Happy to do that too," she said. "But, again, it'd help a whole lot if one of you three would set of a registry."

That got a more annoyed noise out of him and he glanced – glared – at the stairs up to his hideout lair. "Told both of them to get on that."

"Be nice to be able to tell people what they're tossing money in for," she said.

He sighed a bit and looked at her. "Stroller. Car seats. Diapers," he shrugged out.

"And does she have preferences?" she pressed. It got an even more indifferent shrug like it didn't matter in the least. Platt rubbed at both of her temples. "Can you give me the sex of the babies?"

"Not my place to say," he monotoned.

And pursed out frustration. "Okay, a theme or color palette in the nursery?"

"Grey," he said flatly.

She gaped at him. "Grey?" she sputtered.

"Mmm…," he acknowledged. "Helped Halstead out with that lat weekend."

"And you painted a babies' nursery grey?" she mouthed again.

Dear God, as much as part of her wanted to protest being the one assigned baby organization duty – another part of her knew clearly that it was entirely evident that this was not a job that the many men in Erin's life were capable of.

"Bluish grey," he stared at her. "Some sort of aqua, turquoise color. She picked them."

Trudy let out a small sigh of relief. At least Erin could see what was going on. Decorating a nursery could not be left to her father or baby daddy.

"So, boys," she interjected.

But Hank only smacked at her – clearly unimpressed. So she held up a little hand in surrender to let it drop. Though, she did feel that when trying to stock up for babies – plural – the whole keeping their sex secret thing was a little much. It didn't help it along at all in getting them stocked up. She might have to work at cornering Ethan for a few minutes. Offer to give him a police escort between school and his Ability Lab. He'd give her the entire scoop without her so much as having to say 'boo' no matter what he'd been instructed.

"Is there a theme?" she tried instead. "From the nursery that maybe we could translate into the shower – that isn't creepy crawlers?"

"Elephants," he muttered.

"Elephants," Platt echoed and considered it.

Hank was scoping out his escape route again. He'd already started backing away from the counter – leaving his arm there out stretched like she wasn't going to notice that he was trying to make a break for it. When she wasn't near done trying to interrogate him on just how the hell she was supposed to make this special for Erin and worthwhile for the new little family. And not have it cost an arm-and-a-leg or end up as more of a sausage fest than the one they had to work in day-in, day-out. Because it was going to take some arm-twisting, she thought, if she ended up having to get the men from District to attend this thing – and to look like they were having something resembling a good time while they were at it. No games or toilet-paper bonnets going on at this thing. Unless there really was a lot of alcohol flowing for those who could imbiber. She might need more than a bit to get through this whole thing herself. And to wrap her head around Erin Lindsay being all grown-up and mature enough that she was giving birth to a bit of a ready-made, functional family. Time's a funny, funny thing.

Platt let her own little reflection distract her too much from trying to grab Hank's attention back to her, though. And instead he was grabbing someone else's attention instead.

"Burgess," he called at the officer who'd clearly spotted them at the desk and was trying to sneak in in a way to avoid being called on the fact she was running right on time. So, she'd be at least twenty minutes late in Hank's books. He waved her over while she did a bit of a 'who me?' look and a point at the door like she really had to get going quick to her boss to who was staying right there in front of her. But instead she sulked over. "You ever plan a baby shower before?"

"Ah …," Burgess said and looked at Platt. Platt scowled and shook her head hard. "I've been to some …"

"Mmm …," Hank grunted and looked at Platt, patting the countertop and then gesturing between the two of them. "There. Help'er."

And he quickly backed away and bolted for the door upstairs while Platt glared at Burgess.

"Umm … so … this is about Erin's shower? Because, you know, I actually have a girlfriend who booked this room at a craft studio for her shower and they made these floral…"

And Platt shook her head hard until Burgess shut up and gave her that puppy dog look that her year in Intelligence meant she never really managed to pull off quite the same way anymore. The job did that to you. Cute and innocent didn't continue co-exist after you'd spent some time in the real trenches of the job.

"Do you know what Hank's youngest calls me?" she put to her.

"Demogorgon," Burgess intoned.

"Aunt," she nodded, "Trudy."

"Okay," Burgess allowed and gestured like she was going to start on one of her rambling speed talks that were a whole lot more annoying than anything that tumbled out of little Ethan Voight's mouth. "But, I'm just spit-balling here, but—"

And Platt made a zip-it gesture of her lips.

"Mouth-breather," she looked down at her firmly. "Erin gave _**me**_ the authority to handle this."

"Yeah, but I'm thinking you might have this … more classic perspective of baby showers … and maybe I could help you bring a more modernized—"

"You will be given an assignment," she spat at her abruptly. Burgess looked at her wide-eyed. "Sergeant," she said tapping at her stripes and then pointing at her. "Officer Burgess."

"Okay, but—"

"Attendance estimate," she barked. "End of the week." And Burgess gaped at her some more. Only Trudy just flicked her wrist in dismissal. "Go, go, go. Hop to it."

And Burgess finally did. "Oh, oh …. Okay …"

Leaving her – still with this mess to get sorted. This was just going to be a disaster. Only it wouldn't be. Because this was going to have to be a nice day. The kids of the officers you spend your career working with – your family – they only grow up once. Only have those first baby – or babies – once. This was going to have to be nice. Erin deserved that after putting up with this bunch and CPD.

And Trudy, though, maybe she deserved it just a little too.

She'd never been asked to organize a baby shower before. She wasn't sure she'd ever have a young detective – a young woman – she'd spent a whole lot of years growing up on the job and before ask her either. So this was going to have to be good. Be special for Erin and for Hank and for Jay Halstead and those babies they had on the way.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **This is a continuation — jumping forward to the spring — from Onward Thankfully. The chapters in here are likely going to be briefer and more dialogue heavy than other stories. They aren't necessarily going to be written in order and some re-ordering might be necessary.**

 **I likely will still be doing a few more chapters in Onward Thankfully.**

 **And I also have some chapters that I'd like to do in Hereafter (which is the one that's taking S05 and doing re-casts of scenes or new scenes based on the circumstances of the characters as established in this AU). I have several episodes that I'd like to do that with. Some Ethan heavy and a couple Jay/Erin heavy.**

 **But I know some people wanted more of the pregnancy and how they deal and are coping. Thought it might be sort of fun. So here you go. Likely not going to be as progressive, unfolding story. And not sure it will go all the way up to (or include a scene) of the twins being born or shortly thereafter. Will have to see how it goes.**

 **Lots of ideas of things I want to play with. But only so much time. And these days tend to write where inspiration is and what's easiest to write int hat particularly day or moment.**

 **Enjoy. Thanks. Your readership, reviews and feedback are appreciated.**


	2. Awkward Parts

**Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted), Hereafter, and Onward Thankfully. This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

"So I got invita-told about Erin's shower," Upton said in the passenger seat next to him, and Jay let himself pull the binoculars away from his eyes and give her a glance.

She was slumped down in the seat almost too comfortably; a dead giveaway that her former gig included hours upon hours of time in a surveillance vehicle. She seemed way too content just sitting there in wait slurping at her coffee.

"Yeah?" he acknowledged off-handedly. "You should come."

And she gave him a look. "Really?"

Jay shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

And she kept giving him a look like he was some-kind of stupid. Sometimes he thought Upton might even be better at that on-the-job than Erin. Or at least she had a different way more in-your-face way of presenting it. Passive aggressive but no-holds-barred all at the same time. In every commentary and scrutiny she had of his abilities as a cop.

"It might be fun …" he offered.

"Really?" she said again. This time even more speculatively.

"Sure," he allowed. "If Eth has anything to do with it."

And her brow crunched a bit. "Ethan? Her little brother?"

"Yeah …"

"Her little brother is helping plan her baby shower?" Her interior laughter almost croaked through the words.

"Mmm …," Jay allowed at that, though. "More like everyone is humoring him by listening to his suggestions on what the baby shower should look like."

Hailey did let a little amused buzz come out of that. "Okay," she said. "This should be golden. What? He's … like thirteen, right?"

"Fourteen," Jay muttered. "Getting close to fifteen."

Hailey grinned at that. "Okay, really, tell me," she ordered. "In-car entertainment."

"Ahh …," Jay said and drew the binoculars up to give a quick scan again, just to make sure it was still clear to have some level of distraction going on. It looked okay. "Well, he's pitched paintball, laser tag, batting cages …"

Hailey gave him a bigger smile. "Those do sound like pretty awesome parties," she said.

"Yeah, just maybe not so much for a 26-week pregnant woman," he allowed.

"Not so much," Hailey agreed. "Guess maybe he'll have to wait until his birthday. Do sound like ideal activities for fifteen-year-old boys."

"Oh, no, no, no," Jay shook his head. "He's already got his birthday planned."

Hailey stared at him. "When his birthday?"

"June," he said.

"And he has his birthday planned?"

"New Jurassic World movie comes out on his birthday," Jay nodded at her. "So his birthday has been planned pretty much since the release date was announced."

Hailey grinned at that. "Funny kid."

"You have no idea …," Jay muttered and brought the binoculars up again. "He's actually had some decent suggestions."

"Like what?"

"There's this place that does like …," he shook his head and looked at her. "It caters to the university kids. But Erin's taken him a few times. It's make your own S'mores.

"Like sit around inside around a tea-light and roast marshmallows?" Hailey said.

"I know …," Jay muttered. "But … they've got a thing for S'mores. I think it's about the only think Erin likes about camping. Or the cabin …"

Though, he sort of hoped with time – and kids – maybe her perspective on the cabin would change a bit. He suspected that kind of like the Voights only really being able to afford camping or cottage rentals around Lake Geneva as their family vacations, that the cabin was kind of going to be it for them too. And, Jay really hoped that he'd get to form some memories there for the kids like his grandfather had done for him and Will. And their mom. That Erin would start to see that and enjoy it and look forward to it too. And not just go on about mosquitoes the size of your head.

"They have stuff Ethan can eat …," he muttered instead.

"And that's a real top priority for a baby shower," Hailey said with a bit of flippancy.

But Jay gave her a glance. "Sort of," he said a little defensively. "He's likely going to be there."

"Really?" Hailey gaped again.

Jay shrugged. "Yeah."

"Because he's helping with the set up or something?"

Jay shrugged. "Because …" he shook his head "… I think it's going kind of co-ed. The whole team is getting invited. Eventually."

"Really?" she stared at him again.

"Yeah …," he muttered. "I've just been … waiting to …"

"Putting off them busting your balls about it?" she finished for him.

"Pretty much …," he grumbled and gave the street another scan.

Hailey stared at him rather than out the window. "You okay about all this?"

"The baby shower?" he asked without looking at her. "I guess—"

"The pregnancy. The babies. Everything," Hailey interrupted and he gave her a look. "You just really haven't said much about it."

Jay shrugged at her. "Well, we're at work. Keeping it professional."

Hailey made a small noise. It was somewhere between amusement and annoyance. But she sat staring out the front windshield for a while too.

"You've seen good lately," she said and looked him right in the eye. "The last bit. Couple months."

Jay held eyes with her but then gazed down a bit. She could be so blunt and direct. He still struggled with that. There wasn't this dancing around shit. She just spit at him exactly what she thought or what she wanted to know or how she thought he should act – as a cop and as a man. Or at least as a man, who on the job, had to have her back. And if she thought he wasn't doing that the way she wanted – she called him on it. Hard. Harder – and harsher – than Erin ever had in a lot of ways.

"Yeah," he allowed. "I am."

He could feel her smile at him at that, though. And he let himself look at her.

"I actually kind of like it," he said.

"It?"

He gazed at her. He couldn't believe he was saying this out loud. He didn't feel like he should be. "The therapy. The pregnancy."

"Woooow," she teased him. "I'm shocked." She clearly wasn't.

But he only shrugged at her. "It's just … put a lot of stuff into perspective. Made me work on things. Come to terms with things. Deal with a lot. My past. My relationships. Not just with Erin."

"I'm happy to hear it," she offered more gently, more sincerely.

"Yeah …," he allowed and rubbed at his face a bit, trying to changing topics. "It's crazy. I mean … the kids could be here any day."

"Well …," Hailey said and looked at him. "In like three more months, right? You said she's 26 weeks now?"

"Yeah …," he nodded. "But twins usually decide to make a break for it early. I mean, I've read about kids arriving at like twenty-seven, twenty-nine weeks."

She stared at him again. "That'd be pretty early."

"Yeah …," he allowed and rubbed his palms against his jeans. They seemed to get all sweaty immediately – any time he thought about it. Fucking daily stress at this point. That something was going to go wrong and Erin would be in New York and in the hospital in an emergency situation without him being there. Not there for her and not there for the babies being born. "But, you know," he tried to distract himself, "her OB says it's more like it will be like late-May."

"That will still be here quick," Hailey acknowledged.

"Yep …," he allowed. "Hence, the shower …"

"The co-ed shower," Hailey said and looked out the window.

"Yea …," Jay said.

"Not feeling it?" she looked at him.

He gave his hands another rub on his jeans and moved to scruffing at his cheeks. "I don't know. It's Voight … Hank … who's pushing it at us. And, I get what he's saying. You wouldn't believe …" he sighed and looked at her.

He didn't want to go into a rant about just how much it was costing to get nursery ready. Or to try to … figure some of what should be this sort of basic stuff out when it was all long-distance and FaceTime and texting. And they were at the point where it was getting complicated for Erin to comfortably or safely travel any way. She needed a fucking doctor's note to get onto a plane now she looked so pregnant – which had resulted in them not letting her on the plane her last scheduled visit. And her making the drive – and dealing with babies on her bladder, let alone safely reaching the fucking steering wheel and sitting comfortably in control of a moving vehicle that long – was just not exactly the best scenario either. And, even though Jay was fine with making a blitz for it when he got a couple back-to-backs or jumping on a plane last minute – that was two things. One – it was draining funds that they should be using to set up for the kids. And two – they could only get in so much prep type stuff when it was him going to New York and not her coming home to where they were setting up house and family. Where they'd be raising the kids.

Some days – every day – he just felt like he was missing out on so much of this. And making her do so much of it alone. And then he was doing this other part of it alone and trying to get it to end up looking in some way that he hoped her liked. It just felt so unorganized.

"It feels like it's asking for a bit of a hand out," was what he provided to Hailey, though.

She shrugged. "Yeah, but the thirties are like prime hand-out phase. It's going to be like a decade of people getting married and wanting wedding gifts and then them having kids and wanting baby gifts. Just think of yourself as at the head of the pack. At least you're the first on the team, right? So you're ripe to get some decent stuff before everyone's all tapped out and sick of people latching and hatching."

He allowed a little smile at that and went back to looking out the window.

"It was Platt who invited me," Hailey said and Jay glanced back at her. The faintest flicker of unsurely showed in her eyes. "Are you sure Erin really wants me there?"

He cocked his head at her. "Sure," he allowed again. "Why wouldn't she?"

And that look stayed on him again. "Because I got to know her all of two minutes. And then this summer," and her eyebrow raised and Jay rolled his eyes and drew the binoculars back up to focus his attention and mind on the surveying the street. Because he'd rather focus and think about that than the other two-minute encounter Hailey had had that summer with his brother. On Will's latest rebound and inability to be alone. "And, then I basically took her spot in Intelligence."

"Someone had to fill it," he muttered. Though, let the binoculars come down a bit again. Fuck-all was happening. It was likely going to be a long, long night.

"Fill it and partnered with you," she said.

Jay let out a quiet breath and caught her eyes.

It was true – at the start, in a lot of ways, he would've preferred that Voight had paired him with someone else. He likely would've preferred to get one of the guys as his primary case partner in the day-in, day-out scenario. And some days, he still felt that way about Hailey.

He was still working at getting used to her and comfortable with her. And functioning as a cop – and her partner – for the kind of cop and partner she was. Sometimes he still really didn't feel like they were in-sync. And, even though he knew she had his back – in a lot of ways that likely went above-and-beyond what he might be getting if he'd been partnered up with Olinsky or Dawson. Or Ruzek or Atwater, though, they would've been farther down his list in choices – if he'd been given one. Which wasn't standard and definitely wasn't Voight's way.

But that way of having his back – reading into him and scrutinizing him a bit more than he'd like – sometimes still throw him off a bit. It was a strange line and dynamic that he was still working out how he felt about – when it wasn't Erin – and how to operate within. There were moments were he still wasn't sure how much he trusted or jived with her. He didn't get too upset when Voight shuffled everyone around some or sent Upton on case with Burgess. To get a bit of space from Hailey's worldview.

"Partners are part of the job," he said. "Erin knows the job."

Hailey made some sort of quiet acknowledgement and picked at the tab on her coffee. He could tell he hadn't given the response – or reaction – that'd been wanted to some part of that statement.

"Besides," he tried, "I thought you and Erin clicked for the two-minutes you did get to work together."

She cast him another look with a bit of a smile. "That'd be before you had ten-ish months to vent all your frustrations to her about your current partner situation."

Jay looked at her again.

She did that. The ball-bustin' smile but the acknowledged truth in the words. He wasn't going to deny that he'd vented at Erin. About Hailey. About the job.

But that was kind of what being in a relationship was about. Having another person to listen to that shit. And it wasn't like Erin was always on "his side" when he expressed frustrations about Upton. Sometimes she was very much on Hailey's – as a women, as a female cop, or just as a partner and what a pain in the ass track record he had in that, as well as what a pain in the ass person he could be in general. Sometimes she adamantly agreed with shit Upton said to him or bugged him about. Like counseling. Like checking in with him – and his headspace – after a rough case or a tough shot.

So what was he supposed to say. He wasn't going to lie about it. He talked to Erin. Them figuring out how to talk – period – especially over long distance, was pretty much obligatory to them functioning right now. And their future working.

And even though it was hard work and had its rough patches, Jay felt like he – they – were on the right track. He felt … as confident as he could about their future. Even though it was sort of future unknown in a lot of ways. But, it was like Hailey had said – he felt like he was in a better place than he had been just a few months ago. A better place than he was six months ago or nine months ago or a year ago.

He and Erin had both made changes. They'd grown. They still were. But they were getting there. The communication changes – and challenges, and necessity – that the pregnancy had created had done a lot of that. It'd made them talk about a whole lot of things. About themselves and their past and their future together. And part of that was talking about all that. Talking about work. Just talking – in general. About the people around them. About shit that was bugging them. About what was going on in their own heads.

He wasn't going to apologize for that. Or lie to Hailey about it.

"I do like Erin," Upton provided, though. "I would've liked to get to work with her more. I just meant that we didn't really get to know each other or end up as real tight friends. And, I know, she – both of you – were working through a lot of stuff last spring and have been this year. And she's there, I'm here. Your new partner, etcetera. So, she – or you – really don't have to feel like you're obligated to invite me. I get that it might be … complicated … or awkward."

Jay shrugged and brought the binoculars up again. A car was coming down the street. It didn't look like the make or model they were waiting on, but he supposed he could hope their suspect was getting a lift in a different ride. And they could cut the rest of this conversation short.

"The awkward part if that we just don't have anyone to invite," he mumbled. No luck on the car.

"Really?" Upton said.

He let the binoculars come down again. "Hence it being co-ed."

She just stared at him.

"It's not like either of us have big families," he said. "Or have some big friend group or life outside of the job."

Hailey rested her head against the glass and stared down the street. "I hear you on that one."

Jay kept looking down the street too. Stakeouts and surveillance with Hailey were still … sometimes kind of awkward and uncomfortable. You could only share space together in silence for so long. And they only ever made so much small talk.

"I think I kind of hear her on wanting her kid brother there too," Hailey muttered. "It's kind of sweet he wants to be involved."

"They're tight," Jay acknowledged.

Hailey nodded. "Yea … I only got to meet him that once really. But I could feel that." She shook her head. "Baby brothers … got a way of stealing your heart."

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience there, Upton."

She gave him that smile again. The one that made him wonder exactly what it was that kept her single. Because he knew that it must be her choice – not for some jagoff's lack of trying.

She held up two fingers at him, though, giving them a wriggle. And that likely was a bit of a preview of some of her choice making.

"The more I learn about you, the more I realize I have no clue who you really are," he said.

The smile faded a bit at that but she nodded. "Good. My plan is working," she said and cast him a more shit-eating look. "Much like baby brothers give you a preemptive chance to try to mould some of your species into the good guys."

"Yeah, and how's that working for you?"

She took a gulp of her coffee and weighed her shoulders to-and-fro but gave him a smile. "Getting there," she said. "The baby baby brother isn't too much older than hers. So he's still a work in progress."

"That's really all you're giving me," he pressed.

And she just grinned and took another gulp out of her cup. "I think me and Erin probably would've had enough of a mutual understanding to be decent friends," she said. "That enough?"

"Not really," Jay muttered and tapped at the steering wheel of the parked car while he looked at her. "You could still be friends," he said. "When she gets back."

She shrugged. "We'll see. More complicated now. I'm your friend – partner. You'll both be busy with the babies. And, like you said, keep it professional."

"Yea …," Jay acknowledged flatly.

"And, like you said, don't have much in the way of time, friends or life outside the job …" she added.

"Yea …," he acknowledged again. "Except it sounds like you do."

She shrugged. "Enough of one that like I said, I get why she might want Ethan at the shower. And you and Voight … Hank. Though, if I ever let my Dad and brothers force a baby shower on me, I'd likely make sure they got to spend the afternoon waiting on every unreasonable demand I generated. Just because …"

"Oh …," Jay nodded. "Yeah, you and Erin would've been world's best besties with plans like that."

Hailey gave him a smile. "I should give some baby shower planning tips to Platt and Kim, huh?"

"Or not …," Jay said.

She smiled more. "But, seriously, she really wants to invite all the guys?"

Jay sighed and rubbed at his face. Because that was sort of another thing that was being forced on them. And another indication of just how few friends – and how small of family – they really did have.

"I mean, I get it," Hailey said and gestured above her – as though to see their previous conversation. "But, I don't know. I'm just not sure …" she shook her head. "Some times it's just a battle to get you guys to remember we're capable of taking care of ourselves. And, I feel like when you're a female cop and you get pregnant—"

"Yeah," Jay sighed. "I know what you're saying."

He and Erin had talked about that a lot. How he was glad she wasn't pregnant and on the job. How even in a job that was mostly an office job and an ass job when you got down to it, Erin definitely felt like people at the ADA's office were treating her like she was some kind of delicate flower. How she – they – already knew that having the kids was going to change things about her ever getting back on the job. That there was a part of Jay that didn't want her to explore ending up back in CPD. That he was even aware it changed a lot of shit for him too. Because now – there were people left behind that he was supposed to be taking care of if something ever happened. It was just more complicated.

But for Erin – who was so fucking tough and had had to spend so much of her life being just that – she basically didn't like being treated like some sort of lady. It wasn't like she didn't want people to recognize she was a woman. It was just that she hated that somehow her being pregnant – or about to be a mother – some how meant that she was more vulnerable. Or more needy. Or something.

But it was strange. Because for Jay – a lot of the pregnancy had sort of just highlighted this femininity in Erin that he only was ever allowed to see so much. But it was so fucking sexy and beautiful. Even though the whole pregnancy thing definitely came with aspects that were completely unsexy and kind of gross. But it was also just fucking amazing. Especially as the babies grew and her body changed. His mind was kind of boggled. It was amazing – fucking amazing – what her body was able to do. And just how strong she was. Because he knew it wasn't exactly an easy pregnancy. And she really wasn't complaining. And even if you didn't know that she was dealing with a lot of the shitty aspects of pregnancy – you still had to be aware of just how awkward and uncomfortable she must be at this point. And she kept moving forward. Because that's what Erin did. And Jay knew there must be a lot of days she didn't really want to. She didn't want to deal with the discomfort or to get the looks or to deal with the intrusive questioning. Or the idiots who thought they got to ask a whole lot of personal questions – or even touch her – because she was pregnant.

"To me," he said, "it's just shown like how strong she is. And that she definitely doesn't need to be handled in kid gloves. She can more than take care of herself. But, yeah, I'm not sure she's super excited about being put on display to everyone either."

"She's pretty big?" Hailey gave her a smile.

Jay made a noise and stared out the window. "She looks like she's carrying a homing missile – not twins."

"God …," Hailey mumbled. "She must be so uncomfortable."

"Yea …," Jay acknowledged. "And they aren't making it easy on her. They're crazy active. It's so weird. You can see them moving."

"Like …?" and she gestured down at her.

"Yea …," Jay acknowledged and fished out his phone. But then he hesitated and looked at her seriously. "Just …"

But Hailey was already gazing expectantly at the phone and nodded. "Between us."

He nodded too and flipped around to call up a video from his past weekend visit. He hit play and handed to her. He watched her face. The smile was growing again.

"Oh, my God …," she said and he knew she must've seen the huge jump in Erin's belly. "See. The guys would like this. It looks like a scene out of Aliens."

"That's Baby A," he said. "He's always kicking."

"He?" Hailey asked, looking up at him.

Jay slouched back in the seat and stared out the window. More reason not to talk about it at work. He'd let his guard down and slipped up.

"Platt told me to try to get the sexes out of you," Hailey said and handed the phone back to him. He took it and stared at it. "That's an amazing video, Jay. It looks like they're kicking each other."

"Yea …," he said quietly and stared at it. "They are. We've seen it on the ultrasound." He looked at her. "Can we—"

She waved her hand at him. "Didn't hear a thing. Didn't see a thing."

"Thanks …," he muttered.

He was going to have to hope she had his back on this one.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **I want to do an Al/Hank recast from the last episode. That will likely be next.**


	3. Take It Out

**Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted), Hereafter, and Onward Thankfully. This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

Hank dropped the bag of take-out onto the counter. Seemed like this was what feeding his kid was coming to these days. Getting home later and later. Chasing his tail and covering his bases.

Getting called out at all kinds of hours that were fine-enough if he didn't have a kid at home or had a spouse at home to help. But didn't. And knew that if Ethan wasn't sick, all that absence and coming-and-going in this time of his life – teen, high school – would be setting his boy up for finding trouble. Had happened with Justin in that last bit of high school and teens and young adulthood. Instead, Hank knew where this kid was most of the time, but spent the times Magoo was home alone making himself keep his head in-check and on the job. On straight. Which was fucking hard to do when you always feel like you're waiting for a call from the kid or EMTs or the hospital telling him something had gone sideways.

Hank knew he could tell Magoo to be cooking supper. And a lot of nights he did. But also seemed unfair to be having the kid making dinner when he didn't know when he'd be getting home. Unfair enough to be having the kid sit there and eat on his own. And, knew that because of it, Ethan wasn't eating as well as he needed to be with all this. That he was skipping meals. Not taking the pills he should be taking with food with food. Making it harder on his body than it already was. And could only lecture him about it so much. Could only be there to supervise it so much. Needed the kid to learn how to manage this and take care of himself and his health.

But still had that tug in him that he was the kid's father. He was the adult. He was supposed to fix things for the kid. To take care of the kid. To clean up messes. Instead it was just one big mess a lot of days and nights anymore. And it'd come to this. Bringing fucking lukewarm food home in a brown bag at eight o'clock at night and hoping that he could get the kid to choke some of it down before he tried to do the Lights Out routine with a kid that he was also having to trust to put himself to bed on his own more and more too – and to keep a sleeping schedule, to get the rest he needed, and to listen to his body (and clean up any sweats or accidents and the laundry it created in the middle of the night). Do all that and then wait for the phone to buzz and end up back out on a scene likely by midnight. Home to drag Magoo out of bed in the morning, to try to shove more food and pills down his throat before dropping him off on Ignatius' doorstep (about the only way to ensure the kid actually arrived there anymore despite the damn school being barely a mile away) and then back into the Barn again.

Some days – nights – felt more and more like his tank was running on empty. Creeping closer and closer to that E. Taking him farther and farther away from the E he had at home. Dragging when he really needed to be one his game more these days. To navigate this fucking mine field the job and the city and fucking Denny Woods – and his own fucking choices – had become. Energy for what was to come. Of him. Of his boy. Of Erin and those grandkids on the way.

Had some nights – days – were he wondered if he should've just taken his pension when E got sick last summer. Shouldn't have just taken leave. Just shouldn't have gone back. Wondered if Denny would've just left well enough alone then. Let sleeping dogs lie. Not dig up things from his past – or their shared past. But it was all kind of a moot point now. Had gone back to work. And maybe it was better that way. CPD might not be the same – Chicago might not be the same – but at least with still carrying the shield, he had some pull and some protection in some circles. Things that might pay off in the end. Or at least make it a little cleaner if – and when – they ever came to slap the bracelets on him. Cleaner than it would if he was just a retired cop – a civilian. At least on the outside.

He stuck his head into the front room. The fucking TV was blaring so loud, he expected that E and Halstead were in there. Had seen Jay's truck out front when he'd pulled around back. That was good. And bad. Likely meant that Ethan was having a bit of a rough night. Or Jay was. Seemed like more times than not, if he roped Jay into doing a pick-up of E for him anymore, he just dropped the kid off and came back to work too. Hadn't reappeared. But hadn't heard any peep out of either of them either.

They weren't in the front room, though. Just left the fucking TV blaring about Spring Training. Running up his electric bill.

Grabbed the remote and flipped it off. Gave way to music blaring upstairs instead. Shook his head and went over to the bottom of the stairs.

"Ethan," he barked. Barked loud enough that the mutt heard him and thought he was the one getting communicated at. His big head peeked down the stairs at him. "Turn the damn music down. Come get some chow."

Bear liked that. Charged partway down the stairs but skittered to a stop and looked back up the stairs when there hadn't been any audible movement. Claws clicked back up and Hank heard the music go down several decibels.

That was enough for him. He went back into the kitchen, grabbed the bag of stir fry and curry and fucking lettuce cups that he hoped E would find something agreeable in. Be so much fucking easier if he could just grab a fucking Italian beef to bring home on these kinds of night. Cheaper. But supposed that'd do nothing for his kid's healthy – or waistline – even if the kid was healthy. Supposed he should be fucking grateful about the fucking gentrification the ever expanding university campus and medical campuses were bringing as they infringed into the boundaries of their neighborhood. At least there was starting to be enough froufrou crap around that he didn't need to be driving to the fucking North Side just to get his kid something he could eat on the nights he didn't feel like cooking. If he was having to do that detour, might as well just toss some chicken breast in the oven or boil some pasta. Faster and cheaper.

Started dropping the containers on the table. Heard the dog charging back down the stairs a hundred miles an hour – and human feet. Going too fast and without the click-clack of E's accompanying crutches. So knew it was Halstead who had decided to grace him with his presence.

Just gave the kid a nod as he appeared in the doorway of the dining room. Gestured at the food.

"You like this Honeygrow shit," he said.

Wasn't a question. Knew that it was Halstead's thing. Been him who'd turned Hank onto this place as a take-out option for Magoo. Place that could accommodate and be customized to suit every fucking dietary restriction E had. And debatably be edible in the process. Hank wasn't entirely sure he agreed with that. But at least he meant getting some veg and protein into his kid. And was about the kind of menu that Jay seemed to ingest. Though, really didn't believe this looked like anything that would've ended up on his supper table growing up. But that was likely the point. So it wasn't a question. Was a dinner offer. Because Hank knew that his kid likely wasn't going to eat it. And he never had much of an appetite anymore. So, might as well make sure someone was getting his money's worth out of the meal.

Jay only shrugged at him. "I'm going to take off," he said.

Hank smacked but allowed another nod. Put the last container on the table and went back into the kitchen to grab some tableware for him and E. But grabbed a lidded container out of the cupboard too and held it out at Jay. Giving it a nod too.

"Do up a midnight snack," he said. "Lunch."

Jay took it but just stood there looking at him, as he gathered the plates and utensils. Nudged past him to put the shit down.

"He headed down?" Hank graveled.

"Think he's trying to finish up a math assignment first," Jay offered.

Hank grunted. "He eat anything tonight?"

"Got him a smoothie when we were leaving RIC," Jay allowed.

Hank nodded again. Smoothies. About all he could get the kid to ingest these days. And no where near what E needed to be eating for his body to be getting the kind of fuel it needed to function. A bit of self-sabotage. A bit of depression. A whole lot of Ethan knowing a whole lot of somethings were going on these days. And trying to exert some control – and show his anger and frustration – in all the fucking wrong ways.

"Thanks," Hank muttered. "For picking him up."

"Sure," Jay allowed.

Hank gestured at the containers on the table again and gave Jay and his glass Tupperware a look, as he went back into the kitchen to grab a couple glasses. Something to drink. Would prefer something a lot stronger than the almond milk, pear juice and filtered water they had in the fridge. But felt that way more nights than not anymore. And E was getting increasingly agitated about his drinking. And smoking. Kid had picked up quick on both slipping into becoming near daily inebriates.

"His physical therapist say anything?" Hank asked as he came back. Jay still hadn't moved to take a peek at the offerings on the table. So Hank set the glasses down and popped the lids off himself. Maybe E would catch a whiff and decide to come down. Humor him and pick at it a bit. Let him stare at his boy for twenty minutes or so. Usually that was a better way to unwind than a drink or a smoke. Though, could be real hit and miss anymore.

"She never says much to me," Jay put to him flatly.

Hank grunted and gave him a more direct look, circling the table to grab a bottle from the liquor rack. Clear it was going to be one of the misses that night on the hit and miss list.

"Might say some if you had a ring on your finger and had more than a 'boyfriend' title in the family," he rattled at him and twisted the lid off, pouring two fingers worth. Could feel Jay's look on him – but didn't look. Knew it was a big one finger he was getting anyway.

Didn't care. Had really hoped that Halstead would make an honest woman out of Erin before the babies arrived. But was watching the clock tick down on that real quick. These days just really hoped for stability for his girl and his grandkids. That they'd be in a good, secure place before any shit really ended up hitting the fan. That they'd have a nice family. That structure and support. Knew they were all going to need it.

"Did get a comment that a bit more participation and effort out of Eth would go a long way," Jay said directly. Avoidance but fair point.

More self-sabotage from Magoo. More signs of depression. And another fucking ticking clock as he tried to right – stabilize – some of that before anything hit the fan.

"And his assessment for that electrical stimulation thing for his legs got scheduled. Stuck the print-out on the fridge."

Hank allowed a sound at that and glanced into the kitchen. "When?" he asked.

"Next month," Jay said.

Hank gave another sound. Been waiting for this for a while. Arguing with the doctors about it. And now it was more fucking waiting. Waiting as the clock ticked down, it seemed. But just add it to the list. Needed to keep putting up the obstacles and creating enough interference and running the streets and his connects as best he could – to make that timeline stretch out at least another month now. At least until his grandbabies got her and he knew them and Erin were okay. At least until E got this assessment and hopefully they got him fitted with the device and he helped him get a bit more mobility again. Get him up off the couch. Lift his spirits some before he had to go through another blow.

"Ethan," he hollered again up at the ceiling.

"I'm not hungry," got spat from up there that time. Made the dog look up and then look over at Hank – licking his own lips. Clear that Bear would be happy to eat E's share for him.

"Get down here," he provided anyway. And pulled out a chair and sat down. Didn't serve himself yet, though. Took a drink instead. "You in touch with Erin today?" That just got something that resembled an affirmative. "How's she doing?" he asked and took another slow sip as he appraised Halstead. Still standing there.

"Tired, uncomfortable, still obsessing over that case she's working," Jay said flatly.

Hank grunted. "Needs to listen to her doc," he graveled. "She says modified bed-rest, she's got to rest."

Jay slouched against the frame of the entrance into the kitchen. "Yeah, well, I think the doc saying that has just made things worse. It's got her putting in even more time trying to get this thing closed before the full bed-rest, early maternity leave order comes down."

Hank took another sip. "Going to come down quick if she doesn't slow down."

Jay shrugged. "She knows," he allowed. "But doesn't want to hear it."

Hank made a sound and gazed down the front hall – still watching and listening for movement above him and E coming down the stairs. "Not from you …"

Not that his girl did great at listening to him either. But he got a different kind of wrath and cold shoulder from her as her father than Jay did as the fiancé and baby Daddy. He'd risk giving her another lecture. He needed to repeat himself with her a lot – like all his kid. Thick fucking skulls. And stubborn little fucks. Why he loved them.

"You think when you're going at her about that you could maybe broach the condo thing with her," Jay said.

And Hank twisted in his chair to look more at the young man – less up the hall waiting for his own kid to appear.

Jay exhaled. "I know it's her place, her mortgage, her finances," he said a bit too hastily. "And I'm not trying to throw Olive out on her ass. But, Sarge—"

"Hank," he rasped. They weren't at work.

Jay just stared at him for a long beat. "We could use the freed up cash flow. With the babies. I'd really hoped we'd – she'd – be putting it on the market for this spring. But …"

Hank just kept looking at him. Kid looked more uncomfortable than he had in any kind of conversation or confrontation they'd had in a long time. And there'd been enough of them. Figured that him and Jay would likely get in at least one more good blow up as the way shit hit the fan really started to spray. As it became clear what it'd mean. What it was going to do to E. What that would do to Erin and him as a couple and family – when they had babies of their own arriving. What it'd do to Jay's career with CPD. How any of it might spray back on Erin. Hank wasn't going to let it. He'd be the one dying in the hole he'd dug before he let that happen. But it was still going to change her life again too. And have implications for her getting the kind of gig she'd spent her adult life – and then some – readying herself for. Hank knew Jay wouldn't pull too many punches about how he felt any of that. And he shouldn't.

Just like he shouldn't feel that self-muted about bringing up this. Long overdue conversation. One that he'd been assuming him and Erin were having. Privately. At least it sounded like they had. But didn't sound like they'd made a lot of progress on it.

"I know you were – are – the guarantor or signatory or whatever, on her lease. And, I just—"

"I'll talk to her," he said. Because it didn't need to be a huge conversation. He made a gesture with his glass. "Both of them," he added. "Olive too."

Jay nodded a bit and stepped forward, putting the glass container on the table.

"I'm going to go …" he said.

Hank grunted and watched the kid – guy, man – move toward the room's opposite throughway.

"You think you want the boys' crib?" he asked, though. Because he only got so much private time – outside of work time – to talk to Jay. Only got so much outside of work time period anymore.

Jay gave him a look. Could see the hesitance like he was trying to figure out how to answer that politically correctly. Apologize before he'd even said anything.

"Didn't see cribs on the registry," he said. Little jab. They still hadn't put one together. Still kept insisting that all they wanted or needed anyone to get them was diapers. A bit of bullshit there.

"It's not that we don't want it," Jay said like he was trying to wade into all this. And wade away from the whole shower, gifts, taking some help aspect of all of this. When raising kids – it took a fucking whole family. A community. A village. Something Hank got reminded of still every fucking day. That night too. Always with Magoo. "It's just …"

"Thing got used by three different kids over twenty-six years and didn't kill any of them," he said.

"It's not that," Jay allowed. "It's more we feel a little weird giving one kid used stuff or family heirlooms and the other …"

Hank grunted and set down his glass. Meal was really getting old at this point. "Got a second used one lined up for you, if you want. It survived at least five kids without killing any of them too."

Jay stared at him.

"Hermann," he allowed. "At Fifty-One. His wife offered it up."

"Hermann's wife?"

Hank shrugged and took a drink. "Widower. Kid still at home," he said. "Get all kinds of offers."

That got a smirk out of Halstead. "That really seems to be working out for you."

He finished off the drink. Gotten him enough offers over the years, if he wanted them. But false pity and unwanted sympathy wasn't too attractive. He'd take a crib, though. And might've taken some frozen lasagnas and cabbage rolls over the years too. Literal food variety.

"Gets them all kinds of worried about what their manfolk would inflict on their children if they ever kicked it," he said.

"So they bestow you with gifts," Jay said. "Like a crib."

Hank shrugged. "Or just hopping if it's out of the house they won't be filling it again."

"I'm pretty sure they're in their fifties."

"Happens," he said flatly. Though, thought it was more likely that their oldest might be getting himself in enough hormone-led mischief that it'd be him who'd be bringing up something to fill it. But that was a different matter. "Can swing by after tour one night this week. Pick it up. Help you get it up the stairs," he said but added, "If you two want …"

Jay nodded but said, "I'll talk to Erin …"

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **The last update was added to the Hereafter. My next update will likely be in there too as an Al POV.**

 **I have some for this story but I'm still figuring out some timing and sequence and setting type stuff for Erin's shower and maternity leave and baby arrivals.**

 **And I have some updates for this one that are on the more "serious" and Ethan side of things that aren't as light.**


	4. Risk Taker

**Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted), Hereafter, and Onward Thankfully. This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

Ethan steadied himself and stared up those few steps to Dad's work. He sorta knew that if he went inside that him and Dad might end up in another fucking fight. 'Cuz Dad didn't like him coming to District anymore. Basically ever. He always got super grouchy bout it. Like a real stick up his ass bout it. And told him to GO. HOME. Or he'd shove him into some corner where no one could even see him and he could see nobody neither. He wasn't even allowed to sit with Aunt Trudy anymore. Even though she pretty much didn't seem to care when she sat with her at the Desk. Unless he was being a brat 'bout it. 'Cuz sometimes it was really fucking boring sitting there. But he sorta stopped being a brat 'bout it a long time ago 'cuz Trudy would just "find something for him to do" and the stuff she found for him to do was usually worse than just sitting there and doing nothing.

But he sorta thought he was going to take the risk. That if Dad was gonna be mad at him than let him be mad at him. It was like they were basically mad at each other all the time now anyways. Like all the time. Maybe it wasn't like they were real mad. Not really. It was more like they were both just frustrated with each other. A lot. And that meant they said things to each other that they shouldn't say. 'Cuz basically Ethan kinda got was they were both the only person they had to say that stuff too. Like they were both frustrated by so much and sometimes you just needed to let out that you were frustrated. So they did. Even though Ethan knew sometimes it was super bratty to do. But it was basically only Dad he could be like that to anymore.

It was basically only Dad he could yell at bout everything. Bout how much just everything fucking sucked so fucking bad. And he knew too Dad got that. He did. 'Cuz even though Ethan knew he could be really fucking mean to do, Dad still … was Dad. He still … didn't hold it against him. He still read to him and watched games with him and talked about cars with him and helped him with mechanics and woodworking stuff and hugged him after the really shitty appointments where they told them just more and more really shitty stuff and would lay with him on those nights where he couldn't sleep. And do other nice stuff too. Stuff that went way beyond just like … the whole working to put a roof over his head and food on the table and clothes on his back thing. Even though sometimes when they fought Dad yelled that at him too. That he needed his job for all of that. That he needed his job 'cuz he was so sick too.

And Ethan knew all that was true. But sometimes it still hurt when he said it. Sometimes Dad's job made him so angry. Even though he knew those things. And knew it was important for more than food on the table and a roof over his head and clothes on his back and money and insurance for the doctors and medicine and therapy and all that. He knew Dad's job had more meaning than just like … him.

But sometimes he just felt like a burden for everyone around him. And sometimes he just felt so out of control of everything. His life and his health and having friends and even his own body. And now he just felt so out of control in his family too. Sometimes. It just felt like no one was there 'cuz everyone was just trying to be there for all this other stuff. And it was lonely.

But he could grow up like Dad said. When he was angry with him. He could be less of a burden. He could show them that he knew it wasn't all about him and he didn't want it to be all about him. And maybe just he could show them all that they weren't alone either just like he didn't want to feel so alone either too.

So he was gonna go in. Even if maybe Dad would be angry at him. If he saw him. Or someone told him. Or he found out. And Dad would find out even if he didn't see him. 'Cuz Dad saw and remembered everything. He even said so. And Ethan had seen a lot of times that it was true. Like maybe not 100 per cent true but pretty fucking true. It was hard to get away with things with Dad. Unless he took his eyes off you. But Dad didn't do that much anymore. 'Cuz he said he made that mistake with Justin and now he wasn't gonna again. But sometimes Ethan thought maybe he was 'cuz Dad was almost never home. And he could likely get in a lot of trouble if he felt better. But most of the time he just didn't feel very great now. So maybe that's why Dad thought it was OK for him to take his eyes off him some. Or maybe Dad didn't know he had his eyes off him at all. Maybe he didn't.

Sometimes Ethan didn't really know. 'Cuz it felt like no one told him much of anything anymore. Or talked to him bout much of anything. Like that was protecting him. Like if they told him stuff he'd just be a bigger burden to them or something. But Ethan thought it might work the other way. Like maybe he'd be less of one.

He thought he could make things less of one for them.

So he pulled himself up the steps. 'Cuz Dad said you had to be aggressive. To go after the things you want and what you know is right – to you and for you and for your family. That it's the only way to get things done. You can't be scared. You have to face things. The big things and the hard things and the things you know should make you scared. You just need to do them. Even if it means people say you're a jagoff. You can't control the way people think much. Not people like them. That wasn't their speciality. They weren't out to win hearts and minds. They weren't politicians or propaganda machines or PR spinsters. They were just hard-working people. And the really hard working people need to go after the things they want – for them and for their family and for their community. You need to be aggressive. With the people around you and in your life and in your education and on the job and with the doctors. If you're going to get what you know your people need. You just need to be.

So Ethan would. Bout this. Even though maybe it wasn't exactly what Dad meant when he said that stuff. He knew it wasn't. But it was. Cuz it was about now and life and family and what they wanted and needed. And it was something he could do. Even if it meant Dad would be mad he came to District while he was on the city's dime and had a job to do. That he was at work and work was work. It wasn't personal time.

But him and Dad fought anyway. He could be aggressive with Dad. Or he could try. He wasn't so good at that. But he could try. For now and this and Erin. And kinda maybe for Dad too. Sorta.

So he tried to pull the stupid heavy door open. But some patrol cop pushed it open for him instead and held it staring at him. He didn't need people holding the door for him. But he went in anyway.

Aunt Trudy basically saw him instantly. But Ethan had sorta been hoping she was the one working the Desk. She was who he wanted to see anyway.

"What's wrong?" she demanded outta him immediately.

He maneuvered himself up to her desk. "Nuttin," he said, as he struggled to get the stupid forearm thing off his arm so he could get his backpack off and show her the stuff.

"Ethan Voight," she said, leaning down on the counter to try to get all on his level. But she was still like way above him and looking down at him. He kinda hated that too. "You know we've got strict orders down here about you hanging around the barn."

He just gave her a 'whatever' kinda look.

Trudy tried to be scary like Dad. Uncle Alvin said she was an "old battle-axe". But that wasn't even the best like … analogy, he thought it was called … 'cuz there were old battle-axes at Field. So maybe it actually was a good analogy or whatever, 'cuz the ones at the museum weren't so scary either. And, besides, all that Ethan just knew Aunt Trudy was kinda like Dad. That she had like this soft underbelly for kids. And he knew that like she was even softer with him. 'Cuz he was Dad's kid. So she wasn't so scary at all.

He knew scarier stuff. Aunt Trudy didn't scare him and Dad didn't scare him and there was a whole lot of things that didn't scare him. Not the kids at school or punishments or consequences or any of that. 'Cuz he knew realities that were a whole lot fucking scarier than anything any of them Dad or Trudy or teachers or principals or other kids could ever come up with as punishments or consequences or jack-ass pranks. Maybe only doctors scared him. And they were the worst kind of scared 'cuz they pretended like they were helping you and fixing you and trying to make you better by basically putting you through torture. No one knew really knew scary until they had their body betraying him in every possible way. When your own body could punish you and hurt you and scare you in ways that were worse than anything anyone else could come up with.

At least in physical pain and punishment. Emotional pain was a different thing. But Dad got angry and frustrated and sad and stressed all the time now anyway. So maybe that wasn't so scary either. It just made Ethan angry and sad and frustrated and stressed too. And that just was a different hurt. Not a scary one. Though sometimes that hurt more. Even if it was different.

So Ethan just kept digging the jar out of his backpack and plopped it up on the desk with her. Aunt Trudy just kinda looked at it and then looked at him.

"Don't pay your parking tickets at this window," she said.

He huffed at her and her stupid jokes. She was always making stupid jokes. Like her jokes were even stupider than Dad's. Though, at least she tried to joke more than Dad. So maybe that meant that Dad's jokes were actually stupider. Mathematically or statistically or probability or something.

He just pushed the jar closer to her again. "It's for Erin's shower," he said and watched as she picked it up and twisted it around. Kinda like it was one of those guess how many pennies are in it fundraiser games.

Ethan was good at those. He'd won one once. He didn't even do math stuff like some of the real loser geeks. He just guessed how much would be an amount that made sense to put as a prize in the jar. It wasn't that hard. It was way easier than all these stupid volume equations that like his math teacher and EA were trying to get him to do. Seriously. It'd been even dumber when they made him "explain his work". His work was, "It looks like about fifty bucks."

They'd given him a hard time and made him try to like write it down how he did it. So he wrote: "My Dad is a cop. He used to work in Gangs and now he works in Intelligence. He deals with a lot of bad money from people doing bad things with money and he recovers it. Sometimes it's called laundering or sometimes counterfeiting. My Dad knows lots about money. And he teachers me about saving and budgeting. We use the jar method at home so then you can see what you have and know its value because you should know the value of things. So basically it means my Dad knows what money looks like and its value. He taught me too. Like how much is in a gym bag or in a stack or a safe. Most of it is common sense. Maybe I can teach you too."

He'd gotten in trouble for that. At school. And sorta from Dad. Dad just said that you can't teach common sense to people who don't got any sense to begin with. And that basically talking about money is kinda unclothe. Even though rich people like the kids at Iggy's kinda talk about money a lot. But Dad said the richer you are the less of that kinda sense you have. And that basically he shouldn't talk to people bout what he did at work.

Not that Ethan really could anyway since Dad didn't talk to him about anything about work. Beyond knowing he was in Intelligence but he wasn't even really supposed to know that but it didn't really matter anymore since it wasn't as top secret anymore. But still Dad never said anything beyond "It was a long day". Or "Finally shut that rough one" even though Ethan never knew what the 'rough one' was to begin with really. Or "Got fucking court duty today. Sit in front of some assholes with my thumb up my ass all day. Waste of everyone's time". Or "Sorry, Kid, got to go. Crime scene." Or "Gotta work tonight, Kiddo. Olive will check-in on you." Or "Maybe next weekend, Magoo". Or "Up to my eyeballs in paperwork, E. Not going to happen tonight." Or "Just letting you know I'm home," in the middle of the night when he finally came in. So that wasn't really a lot to know bout any of it.

"How much you got in here?" Trudy asked. So maybe she wasn't so good at eyeballing money. But he wasn't gonna offer to teach her. Besides it wasn't as easy as a jar of coins or a stack of bills. It was all mixed up of everything. And if he got sassy with her, she'd kick his ass anyway. He knew that. Even if he wasn't scared of it.

"That's my savings jar," was all he told her and then plopped the next one on the counter. "And that's the one to budget for like gifts for birthdays and Christmas and that kinda stuff."

Trudy gave a little nod and picked it up too to give it a scan. "As many months' worth of diapers this could cover off for that girl of ours, I really don't think Erin expects you to be dropping this kind of dough on her or the pending arrivals."

He sighed at her again. "It's not for diapers."

"Mmm …," Trudy acknowledged and shoved the jars back closer to him. "Then I need to pull out the C.I. paperwork for you? You dig me up some non-dirty diapers dirt for the wish list? Because the last time I checked, that illustrious sister and would-be-brother-in-law of yours decided to get all Smarty Pants on me and filled out a registry that consisted of diaper sizes ranging from what I assume are preemie size to about seven years old. Or a very large four year old? Leading me to again assume that they're having boys. Or they really haven't got the first clue that most functioning human beings are out of diapers by the time they're three."

"Or maybe they just think they'll wet the bed a lot …," Ethan suggested.

"Oh," she nodded at him. "Shocking. More sass from the Voight family line." But she gazed down at him. "You know, I always assumed Halstead was a bed-wetter. He looks the type."

Ethan gave her a small grin at that one. It was almost funny. But he knew Jay likely wouldn't think so. And Ethan knew he shouldn't really joke about bed-wetting. Since his body didn't co-operate with that anymore either. But Trudy knew that. Cuz he'd had to sleep over at her and Randy's place sometimes now with Dad and work stuff. And sometimes he'd had to tell her that his body hadn't co-operated.

He'd try to not to have to tell her. But Dad told him he had to. Cuz he couldn't just leave their sheets and mattress smelling like that after. That it was pretty rude. And Ethan knew it was. But it was still kinda embarrassing. But it was sorta like his agreement with Dad. Like now there were just procedures and they didn't talk about it. There was a plan and they just followed it and she didn't make fun of him about it or look at him funny.

But he guessed they were still kinda allowed to make fun of it by making fun of Jay. But maybe they shouldn't. 'Cuz he wasn't all that funny. But it sorta was.

"I have ideas for her shower," Ethan said.

"I'm listening," Trudy told him.

"It's why I brought the money," he said.

She gave him a thin smile at that but nudged the jars closer to the edge. "Ethan, I'll listen until the cows come home to any gift ideas and nursery needs that I can get the jagoffs to be dropping some bills into their own jar for. But I know for a fact that Erin wouldn't want you emptying out these two jars of yours on her or the kiddos."

"No," he stressed at her again and dug around in his bag and pulled out the flyer and his iPad that likely wouldn't work since it was only wifi. But that's why he went all the way there to get the flyer. Which Dad wasn't gonna be too happy about either. If Trudy told him. But he was already kinda of exhausted from all of it anyway. School and there and here. It was a lot. So he didn't really care if she told. "It's for her shower. Like her actual shower. To pay for it."

He slapped it up on the counter and she stared at it and then stared at him. But then picked up the flyer and the jars and told the other guy to watch the desk for a couple minutes and she came around to him. She dropped the jars into his sagging open backpack and took it from him, nudging at his shoulder a little.

"C'mon, Pony Boy," she said. "Let's sit down."

He followed her – but she was kinda not giving him the choice – over to the hard bench. And they sat as she smoothed the flyer out on her knee and then set it on top of his.

"So tell me what all this is?" she said.

He pointed at it like she was being real dense. "It's where I think you should book her shower," he said. "It's way better than just doing it at their house. And Erin doesn't want to do it in the house anyway."

"She doesn't?" Trudy put to him.

"No," Ethan said. "She thinks they'll have to clean and organize and then clean and organize again after. And that Jay and everyone will just be downstairs playing videogames and that people will be looking at their stuff and house and making her go upstairs to show them the nursery and she says none of the guys will care about what the nursery looks like. And she's not even sure if any of you guys – like the girls she's friends with – even care what it looks like."

Trudy shrugged at him. "I care what it looks like."

Ethan let out a little groan. "Yea. But you'll see it whenever. Like before and when the babies are born. And same with like … I don't know … Kim. And everyone else … I don't think she wants them all in her space and stuff."

"Well, I really wish she'd said that," Trudy said. She sounded kinda sad and hurt. But then nodded at him. "But, if Erin doesn't want to just host it there, then there's your Dad's—"

Ethan groaned harder. "Not Carmine's," he hissed. "Not everything has to be at Carmine's." He wagged the flyer at her again. "It's a good deal," he said. "And I've got enough saved. And then I think Erin might actually like it and go and then maybe other people will like it and go and then maybe that's like my gift. Like making a shower her and Jay will actually like and so people actually go and so they actually maybe get some stuff or diapers or whatever since people actually come. Because, Aunt Trudy, it blows when you have parties and no one comes. I know. Hard."

Trudy stared at the paper. She looked even more hurt. And Ethan sputtered a bit.

"I don't mean you're planning like a bad party," he stumbled. "I mean like … like Erin's afraid of people not coming or like looking at her or like she has no friends or no friends her anymore. Or like Dad's just making people come and do this. And like Dad's all worried that they aren't going to have enough stuff or be ready or can afford everything. And he's just super stressed it kinda seems. I just kinda … I get what they might be feeling. Since I've had parties that no one came to and don't have people to invite to stuff. And I know that's made Dad sad about me before too. And I just … I want Erin and Jay and Dad and everyone to have fun and it be like good for them and the twins too. You know?"

She nodded a bit and looked at the flyer. "Ethan, is this nice for her or nice for you? I know Erin gets in the stands to cheer for you every game she can, but I think she likes baseball about as much as she likes the Lady Bugs your sister-in-law suggested for this shindig."

Ethan pressed at the flyer again. "It's the White Sox Academy," he stressed. "Jay likes the White Sox. Not the Cubs. It's one of his fundamental flaws. But Dad says Erin's allowed to keep him – as long as the twins cheer for the Cubbies."

"Hmm …," Trudy nodded and gave him stern eyes. "So we're inciting family tension before the kids even arrive. Let's put that on the pro list of plan for a Baby Shower to Remember."

Ethan rolled his eyes at her. "Erin watches The Sandlot with me all the time. Since forever. Since I was a little kid. It's a baseball movie."

"You don't say …," Trudy got all sarcastic with him. But he could tell and he just huffed at her again.

"And she tells me all the time, 'You're killing me, Smalls.' But she says it now to her belly. Cuz the babies are kicking each other and her and her bladder and hurting her back. She says she can't tell if they're gonna be pitchers like me or soccer players like Jay. But they are definitely going to be bruisers."

"Oh," Trudy said, "like their grandfather."

Ethan cocked his head at her. But he gave he a little smile. Cuz maybe that was almost sorta funny too.

"Smalls is plural," he provided.

"That fancy private school education is really paying off."

"Aunt Trudy …," Ethan sighed at her.

She gave his shoulder a little bump. "I'm not sure batting cages is the baby shower of any pregnant woman's dreams, Shoeless Shmoe."

Ethan pressed his finger against the flyer more urgently. "She doesn't have to do the batting cages. We get the party room and the Vault. So people who don't want to swing can play videogames and stuff. Erin says she doesn't think she can sit in a room and go goo-goo, gah-gah over baby socks for two hours. And she says that's what's gonna happen if you're taking Olive and Kim's advice on baby parties."

"Is that so?" Trudy said.

"Yea," Ethan stressed. "So you should take my advice on baby parties before."

"Oh, you've been to enough 'baby parties' that you're a 'baby party' master-level planner?"

"I know that Olive planned Henry's first birthday party and it was about stupid bugs. And that she let me help plan his second birthday party and it was awesome."

Trudy nodded. "I would point out that technically both of those events were Caterpillar parties."

"Trudy …," Ethan groaned.

"But I will concede that bulldozers do tend to squash caterpillars of the creepy-crawler variety."

"'Cuz it was a much better party," Ethan said. "And I got to help her plan it."

"I would also point out, though, that that was a toddler birthday party," she said and pointed at the flyer. "Much like this piece of advertising is for boys in about the upper-end of the sizing of diapers Erin is requesting."

He sat back in the bench and stared at her. "I can show you the stroller she wants," he said. "It costs nearly as much as the clunker that Dad says we'll get to work on next. And that it looks more complicated to get it on the road than any engine too."

Trudy raised her eyebrow at him. "See," she said, "You're starting to learn some negotiation skills. I'm listening – but, that doesn't change this is for a kids' party."

"So," Ethan protested. "It's two hours with the space and we get pizza and drinks included. And you can bring other stuff too. Like S'mores from Sandlot. Or cop themed food. Like donuts. Or elephant cupcakes or whatever. And it's only thirty bucks each as long as you can get at least ten people to come."

"That's a lot of money that could be put toward this luxury stroller instead," Trudy said.

Ethan grabbed into the bag and pulled out the jar of cash again. "So I have enough to pay for the first ten people. And then they get my niece and nephew stuff. That's how it works."

Trudy stared at him. Like really hard and he sunk back as he realized he'd said it and sputtered some.

"Maybe it's not a niece and nephew," he said and shook his head hard and sit up. "It might be two boys. I hope it's two boys." She kept staring at him.

"Erin's having a little girl?" Trudy said.

Ethan shook his head harder. "I don't know," he lied. "They don't know," he tried. "She won't like turn. And show them good and they are laying together so you can't really see and – THEY DON'T KNOW." He raised his voice to high he almost felt like it cracked and looked at her pleadingly. "It might be two boys. Erin thinks it's going to be two boys now. Cuz she's kinda huge—"

"Oh, there's a phrase every woman loves hearing come out of a man's mouth."

Ethan sighed. "She said it. Not me. And she said she thinks she's so huge and they are all like sticking right out like that and always kicking her since they are boys."

"That does sound like typical male behavior," Trudy said. "Always trying to find some way to kick you when you're down even when you're trying to help them out."

"Jay says the girl is just feisty like her."

"Mmm …," Trudy conceded. "Ball buster from the get. Makes sense."

"And Dad hopes it's a boy and a girl. And … I hope … just please don't tell Dad …," he sighed. Cuz he'd already said way too much. He hadn't filtered. Now Dad was really gonna be mad.

But Aunt Trudy just nudged across the bench and put her arm around him. And gave him this little shake.

"Your ol'Dad knows that there are a whole lot of things that are on the need-to-know list. It's like the Blue Wall. Aunts and Uncles – there's a whole scared need-to-know wall between them and their nieces and nephews right. It means that sometimes, maybe the parents don't need-to-know everything. Aunts and uncles aren't that kind of snitch. Right?"

Ethan gave her a little smile and a little nod. "Yea … I think so …"

And Trudy gazed at the flyer again. "Our girl really knows ten people she'd want to come to this thing?"

Ethan smiled a bit and looked at it. "I don't know. But I think maybe she knows like at least maybe twenty people who might actually come if it's not all baby-this, baby-that like. And that I'm pretty sure she wants stuff other than diapers. She's just being stupid about."

"Mmm …," Trudy nodded. "I could tell she was getting stupid on me."

But that's OK. Sometimes Erin did stupid things. But sometimes Dad did too. And sometimes he did too. And sometimes they all made each other mad and sad and frustrated and stressed out and angry. But sometimes they didn't. Sometimes they were all just trying to mean well by doing things to make each other's lives easier. 'Cuz that's what family was and did. You took care of each other. And went after what each other wanted and needed even when they didn't know it or they were too afraid to say so themselves.

Ethan got that and he knew Trudy did too. Family – and aunts and nephews – they knew that kinda stuff. He thought.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **So the next few chapters may be out of order but the general plans are:**

 **-Will and Jay chapter — putting together baby stuff, talking about women in their lives (Erin and Natalie fiasco), the babies, being an uncle and being a parent and being a spouse/boyfriend, and their dad (and that situation in relation to Jay becoming a father and including his side of the family in that)**

 **-whole family chapter — at Easter, but with Erin home and baby stuff going on**

 **-Jay and Hank — (with some Erin and Ethan) conversation about the pregnancy and the babies and being family and parents, and some backward/couched discussion about Hank's current predicament and what it might mean**

 **-Ethan and Denny Woods (and likely some Platt or Voight in it) confrontation about who Denny is really hurting in all this**

 **-possibly a Jay and Brian Cassidy chapter in NYC**

 **-possibly a Jay and Erin chapter set in NYC**

 **And then I do have an Al POV chapter I want to do that would be posted as the Breaking Point episode recast chapter in Hereafter.**

 **I have a vague idea for an Erin and Ethan chapter but haven't worked it all out yet to know when it will post or how it will take shape.**

 **There's also a Hank/Ethan chapter I'm playing with but it'd be on the depressing end of things with Ethan's health issues so I'm not sure yet if/when it will get written.**

 **Thanks for your readership, reviews and comments.**


	5. Positioning

**Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted), Hereafter, and Onward Thankfully. This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

 *****CONTENT WARNING: End of the chapter is a moderate M*****

"Jay," Erin muttered at him through the dark of the room. "Your son's foot is nearly pushing between my ribs. I don't need your dick pressed between my ass cheeks."

He made a little noise but his loose grip – and the extra weight of his draped arm, that she hadn't been super enthusiastic about either – moved, and so did he, rolling away from her with his own mumbled 'sorry' as he flopped onto his back and she could feel himself reaching to adjust himself, even though that really hadn't been the problem. He wasn't anything resembling hard. It was just that she hadn't really wanted him to get any ideas. Because she just wasn't in anyway comfortable to entertain anything. And she'd just been so looking forward to her own bed. To home. To the hope that she'd be able to find her comfortable spot with a comfortable sleeping position, curled around her pillows and having Jay – without restless energy – next to her. But that wasn't the way it was playing out. She was starting to think that sleep wouldn't happen until after these kids arrived. And she knew that it likely wasn't going to happen for two or four or six months – or eighteen-plus years – after they did arrive.

"It might be her foot," Jay said from his adjusted position. "Not his."

Erin allowed a little smile and shifted to roll over so she could look at him. Really it was more to propel herself and the pillow she'd shoved between her knees. She'd put it there in an attempt to find some sort of comfort, which also never seemed to work anymore despite it being one of her go-to positions before she had two humans growing inside her and it apparently being the go-to position for people who actually did have two humans growing inside them. But maybe she'd outgrown its usefulness by preemptively adapting it to her pillow and sleep routine.

Just like moving and rolling – and standing and sitting and laying down – all just didn't really work even anymore. Even when she tried to get some momentum to make the move. She still felt like either a beached whale or a turtle stuck on its back. Some days she wasn't sure which.

At least that night, she had Jay to sort of grab at her shoulder and retrieve the pillow for her and to help her rather ungracefully reposition herself to look at him.

"Wrong side," she said of his commentary on who was wrecking misery on her body that night. Every night. The one that wouldn't sleep at night now inside of her and she suspected would be doing his best to not let her sleep at night after he was on the outside too.

"Unless in their acrobatics they've managed to flip around," he suggested.

She made a noise. "I hope not. There's not enough space left in there for them to be doing that without seriously damaging each other."

She felt his thin smile on her as he placed the pillow back at knee level of her. She knew on some level he hated it. The pillows. The wall. But he'd restrained himself from saying anything. Though, he could feel her looking at her through the dim light that was peeking through the blinds. In their room.

She'd managed to drag herself up all the fucking stairs so she could sleep in her own bed. But she'd nearly stopped and settled on his shabby mattress on the flipped around floor on the second … third … floor of the townhouse. It looked so tiny with the queen bed and the couple pieces of furniture in there. That room had seemed so big when they'd basically been just using it as a storage room – despite their claims it was their "workout" room. Though, now just getting to that floor of the house was a workout.

She was cursing … whatever they were fucking thinking when they got this narrow, fucking, multiple level townhouse. She didn't know what the fuck they were thinking. Okay. She knew what they were thinking. That it was basically in the neighborhood she'd grown up in. That it was near a park and a rec centre and a community centre with a pool. That it was near Hank's place. And work. And in an area that looked like things were going to go up in value over the next decade or so – even in the townhouse would be pushing thirty-five or more years by then. That at the time they'd thought **IF** they had kid **S** , it'd be great for them to be able to have their own bedrooms. That it'd be great for them as parents to have a fucking floor away from the fucking kids all to themselves – for some fucking privacy and space in the house of their own.

They'd been so fucking naïve. Getting up and down the steps at thirty-weeks pregnant was awful enough. She couldn't imagine having to go up-and-down, and up-and-down with crying babies. Or lugging growing babies. Or chasing after chubby, tantrum-ridden toddlers. There'd already been talk about them occupying that now cramped "work out" room until they worked out this whole two babies thing. A talk she'd done with herself internally as she hauled herself up the steps that night. When she'd tried to justify it being A-Okay to start sleeping in that room now. To get comfortable and used to it. But she'd thought her bed had been beckoning upstairs. That she'd get a better sleep up here. But it wasn't happening. She actually thought not only wasn't it happening – that the foot pressing into her rib cage was also accompanied by an ass that was pressing into her bladder and that she was soon going to be trying to ungracefully get up and across the room to the en suite without pissing on the floor on the way. Attractive.

"You nervous about tomorrow?" Jay asked her.

She just made a small sound and rolled her forehead into the pillow that she had at her head.

"Not really, I guess," she said.

It was a bit of a lie. She was nervous to meet this new doctor. The OB that was getting stuck with them at this point in the pregnancy. She was nervous that she wouldn't like the guy after dealing with the woman in New York. That he'd have different opinions than the woman who'd been following the pregnancy all-along. That he'd decide she should be on bed-rest or off-work or have some sort of "high risk" pregnancy mumbo-jumbo that would make her feel like she was ancient and that this could still all go to shit. That he'd say she should stay in Chicago and not be going back to New York because of the babies' positioning or her cervix or Braxton Hicks or … who knows. Because the third trimester with twins was always unpredictable and it'd be better to be safe than sorry. And she knew all that. But she was still hoping that she could get at least a month more in at work and then a couple weeks home before they decided to show up. To let them bake – and grow – as much as they could. To make sure they were as big and healthy as possible – even though she also didn't know how her body could accommodate them getting any bigger at this point without them just bursting right out of her right now.

She was hoping to get to thirty-six weeks. She'd prefer thirty-seven. And she knew if she expressed that tomorrow, she'd get told exactly what she didn't want to hear. To stay put – at home – to rest, to keep off her feet as much as possible, and to listen to her body and what the babies were telling her. That she couldn't have her cake and eat it too, basically.

"Are you?" she put back to Jay, though. Because she knew his opinion on it all too. As impractical as it was. That she should've come back to the city at Christmas and stayed. Or she should've let him come to New York City and they'd figure it out. But that didn't sound too much like figuring it out to her. It still didn't really feel like they had any of it figured out. Though, she supposed – knew – they were more ready than they were in December. Not quite as much of a mess. But still sort of gazing into this unknown in so many ways.

He shrugged at her and gave her one of those looks. Where she knew the next thing out of his mouth would be said like he was teasing but it'd have a level of seriousness to it that he was trying to mask with his own touch of sass.

"Maybe a little," Jay said. "That he's going to tell us our sex lives are over for the next three months."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Pretty sure if that order comes down the pipes tomorrow, you're looking at more like five months."

He gaped at her a bit. "Wait … what?"

"Jay," she huffed at him. "It's not like I'm going to want anything …," she gestured at him and his crotch … "up and in my space for a while."

"Yea, but, if he agrees with scheduling the C-Section …," he sputtered.

"It doesn't matter which way they come out, Jay," she pressed at him. "There's a healing period before me or the doctors will be giving you any kind of green light. You miss that tidbit on your PBS docu-series?"

He raised his own eyebrow at her but then flopped on his back a bit more for his stare at her and stared at the ceiling. She reached and nudged at his shoulder a bit.

"It's okay," she teased, "I won't be offended if you and your hand share a close personal relationship for the next while."

"Har, har," he mouthed at her.

She cocked her head at him a bit and then gestured at her monstrous belly. "Because this is so sexy right now," she mouthed.

Jay gave her a small smile and rolled back to look at her, putting his hand where already hiked-up tank (because it wouldn't stretch around these kids anymore) and had been pressing against the heel that had been penetrating out of her. Jay touching the baby's foot didn't help. It was like the kid could tell it was Daddy and he wanted to play. He just started moving more.

It'd actually been what had completely derailed one of their latest sex attempts – and they really were just awkward attempts at this point in the pregnancy, littered with failures and stoppages and discomfort and turnoffs and triggers for the both of them on the limited weekends they were getting together to even try.

Jay had made the mistake of putting his hand against her in their slow, awkward contortions that was somewhere between spooning and him just trying to lift her leg in any sort of way that get him any kind of access that was enjoyable for either of them. Beyond the fact that she'd been pretty sure her thigh was going to cramp into a Charlie Horse before or after he finished – she'd actually been almost enjoying the sex that night. But it'd come to an abrupt end as soon as he'd steadied himself and his hand against her. And the baby felt it and decided it was time to start moving again.

Jay had had a minor freak out. He'd decided the babies knew what they were doing. Or that his dick was somehow big enough (in his dreams) that it was disturbing and infringing on their space in some way. And he'd pulled out before Erin even had a chance to mount an argument about how fucking close she'd been to be actually getting off. Beside being the size of a beluga whale.

But apparently he had a short memory. Or the few weeks since they'd seen each other had been enough of a drought – as he realized that there'd be a bigger drought pending. Or he'd done some sort of Googling to realize that the babies didn't really care his dick was inside her. If anything, if she felt good and relaxed maybe they would too and let her get something that resembled a few hours back-to-back sleep post-orgasm. Assuming the orgasm didn't cause contractions that woke them or scared her. But she hadn't let Jay in on that tidbit either. In case they didn't get the "no sex" order tomorrow. And, in case, there was some time between now and the kids arriving that she did either feel sexy enough or horny enough that she still wanted to get laid.

"It's sexy in a way," he told her and pressed against their baby's foot too. It pushed right back up into his hand. And Erin reached and batted it away.

"You get him going and the other one will get going and you definitely won't have a chance of anything resembling sexy time," she said.

He raised an eyebrow again. "I've got a chance?"

She grinned at him and leaned in to capture his lips and to graze her fingers against the scrub he had there. She could tell he was enjoying it – and that he was still hopefully, maybe more than before – but she backed away and smiled a little more. "Maybe for a handjob," Erin said, "that I won't make you provide to yourself."

He groaned at her again and settled onto his back again and stared up at the ceiling.

"See," he muttered a little absently, "I think that's Will's problem."

"Will has a lot of problems," Erin muttered.

Jay turned his head to look at her. "But, I mean, I can't imagine Will being able to lay in a bed and have a woman say any of what you just said to me and him not throwing some sort of fit and storming out of the room."

Erin looked at him. "And I can't imagine us continuing to have a conversation about your brother and you even having a chance of getting a handjob tonight."

Jay gave her a little smile at that and rolled up onto his side and gazed at her instead of the ceiling. Or at least he shared the attention with her. He kept shifting his eyes to look at her belly through the dim light like he was still trying to spot the baby's foot or any other raucous movements. But maybe they'd gotten lucky. Jay touching at her had seemed to make the baby shift positions a bit. He wasn't pressing into her rib cage quite as awkwardly and he seemed to have calmed a bit. Maybe that was Jay's voice too. Maybe it'd work when the baby's got there too. And he'd get to do night duty. If the kid settled down for him. She was pretty convinced already that Baby A was going to be a Daddy's Boy. There was always the most reaction on that side of her when Jay was around.

"He was always so fucking at me about needing to 'save' people," Jay said.

Erin shrugged a little. "You kind of do," she said. But not too carefully. Because it was an area they'd talked about. An area she knew he was working on in therapy. To try to understand why he was that way and how to manage that load he carried. Or too not get to the point he'd accused her of 'to care too much', to have 'too much empathy'.

Though, those weren't quite Jay's problems or where he was coming from. But it wasn't like he wasn't empathetic either. That actually might be a bit more of Will's M.O. Both brothers were kind of screwed up in their own ways. Their childhoods and their parents – their father – had done a number on them. But she also knew that was true for most people. It was true to her. It'd likely be true for their kids too. Though, hopefully not in quite the same ways as her or Jay. Or at least it'd be for every different reasons if they did grow up to be their parents. Because that seemed to happen too much too in a whole lot of ways. As terrifying as that was.

She hoped that Hank was right in his attempted reassurances that you tended to see the worst parts of yourself in your kids and the best parts of your partner. And vice versa. Like some sort of Fun House mirror where it sort of balanced itself out as long as your other-half – or better half – was there and still a part of your life and your kids lives. She wasn't entirely sure how that math or science worked. But she was trying to take it for what it was worth. He'd raised three kids. Hopefully he knew something on the topic. Or else she might be a little more screwed than she had even anticipated already.

"All year he's said that I'm trying to 'save' you and you don't want to be saved," Jay said.

Erin sighed and pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead a bit. Will had a lot of opinions that he didn't seem to pull too many punches on expressing. But Erin found a lot of times he didn't understand the entire situation before he started expressing those opinions – or acting.

Will didn't understand their relationship. Erin wasn't sure Will really understood relationships, period. And he definitely didn't have a full perspective of everything that had gone on last spring – almost a year ago now. Or all the fucking work they'd had to put into their relationship the past year too. But that would likely need an acknowledgement from Will that relationships are something that you have to work at for them to work. Which just seemed to be beyond him. He always seemed to want the fucking fairy tale, even though he managed to thrust himself into the most complicated situations possible. And than to find ways to make things even more fucking complicated.

"And then his mind is blown when Natalie tells him he's pretty much a chauvinist and consistently patronizes her at work," Jay said.

Erin brought her hand down and looked at him. They'd already had the Will discussion too many times on the phone the past week. For some reason it was grating on Jay more than Will's usual … relationship escapades. Maybe it was just that he needed something to distract himself. Or maybe it was that Will's relationship with Natalie always just seemed to piss off Jay – mostly because of the fallen solider and small child involved aspects of it.

"Jay," she pressed at him. "I've told you. Will doesn't get the whole personal-professional. They haven't figured it out. They didn't work it out before they starting sleeping with each other or including Owen in their mess. It's just …," she sighed and shook her head. It was just as much Natalie's fault too.

"So you do think I try to 'save' you?" Jay asked.

She looked at him. "Is that what this is about?"

He stared and then rolled back into his back to look at the ceiling. "It's what last spring came down to wasn't it?"

She rubbed her hand against her forehead again. "Jay," she sighed. "We've spent a year working on this. The spring was about … both of us dealing with a whole lot of things and neither of us being willing to communicate about them properly."

His head rotated to look at her again. "I'm trying to communicate right now."

"Fine," she said. "But let's not turn our problems into their problems just because your brother is having yet another … whatever it is that he even has with the women he gets into relationships with."

"Do you feel like I was a patronizing chauvinist at work? Or in our personal time? That I'll be that way with our kids? Our daughter?" he pressed again.

She sighed harder and reached to rest his hand against his cheek so he kept his eyes on her. "Jay," she said firmly. "You can be fiercely protective. Sometimes over-protective. And I know that you'll be like that if she's a girl. But, my experience is, that father's are like that with their daughters. The good ones. And, I also know you're going to be just as protective with our little boy. Or boys."

"You only answered part of the question," he said flatly.

She nodded at him. "You were not patronizing or chauvinist to me at work," she said. Maybe he could've gone that way. At least patronizing. Trying to be her 'hero' rather than her partner on the job – like she couldn't do her job. But she'd put a fucking cork in that quick. "You think I'd have let you get far enough that I'm carrying your kids, if you were?" And maybe the reason he'd gotten that far was because outside of work he wasn't a patronizing or a chauvinist either. And maybe she'd recognized – or at least appreciated – that sometimes she needed a little saving off the job in her personal life. She needed his hand to help her get out of the hole. But they had worked out personal and professional. And they'd worked to make that work too.

He allowed a little smile. "One-time thing," he teased.

Erin made a small sound. "Maybe," she agreed. "Because right now I cannot fathom ever wanting to be pregnant again."

He reached and touched her belly again. Almost like it was involuntary – and like he believed her statement and wanted to get the chance to feel it and experience it as much as he could. In case it really was a one-time thing.

"I sort of hope their break goes on long enough that he's not bringing her to the baby shower," Erin muttered.

Jay made a little sound and looked at her. "He's working on creating enough complications that it might be an extended break."

Erin groaned and kept his eyes. "Who's the rebound this time?"

He shrugged. "Some other doctor. Pediatric surgeon."

Erin rolled her eyes. "These kids do something that lands us in a bus, you make sure we don't end up at Med. We don't need our kids arriving like they're some sort of pivotal plot point in the Grey's Anatomy dramedy they've got going on over there."

Jay grinned at her. "Are you saying Will's Dr. McDreamy?"

Erin made a 'gag' face at him. "That character's dead."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really up on your Grey's Anatomy character arcs there, Erin."

She gave him a look. "He's been dead like … I don't know … three years." The eyebrow raised more. And she smacked him in the chest with the back of her hand. "Maybe I watched it a little when Nadia was crashing at my place."

"Because she forced you to watch it …," Jay provided for her with this shit-eating look on his face.

It earned another smack. "With the way your brother gets around at Med, I'd say Grey's managing a fairly accurate reflection of hospital life."

"Mmm …," Jay said. "They've got another show now. At a fire station. Think it's reflective of 51?"

Erin raised an eyebrow at him. Did he really want to go there? They'd both managed to wade into that whole trope in the past. And she wasn't sure she really wanted an update on whatever drama they had going on down the block at the fire house. Though, she knew she was going to have to get abreast on some of the politics since Platt was likely going to want to drag poor Mouch to this shower thing – at least to help with set-up and tear-down. And, both Trudy and Hank had already pretty much told her that it'd be politically incorrect not to invite Gaby. But, Erin wasn't really sure how politically correct it was to her and Jay's relationship – when she was expecting their first children – to be inviting a woman he'd slept with and apparently treated so well that it'd endeared him enough to Antonio to bring him onto Intelligence. But they hadn't really figured out a way to tell Hank or Trudy that was why they didn't exactly want her on the invite list – no matter how much the past was the past and they both still talked to her and Antonio was welcome. Maybe they were just being stupid about it anyway. It was the past. But Erin thought it might be more complicated than that anyways since Gaby had had a miscarriage and they'd done the adoption thing and Hank and Matt still only got along so much despite the past being the past there too. So maybe they should just issue the invite and let Gaby figure out what was best on her own.

Even this fucking shower had to be complicated. She so hadn't wanted to get involved in any of it. But Trudy and Olive and Kim and Annie all kept calling and texting her about the thing. She wished she could tell them to just do what the supposedly "surprise shower" at work in the AD's office was going to be. Cake and some gift that the paralegal intern had somehow missed was going to be for her (because the watermelon growing out of the abdomen apparently hadn't be a visible giveaway) and had asked her to put money into the collection for. Not that they'd be very discrete about the collection anyway. A couple of the women – that she wasn't particularly friendly, despite them being friendly, with had started asking her too many questions about baby themes and genders and color palettes and what they'd bought already and what they needed or wanted. She'd apparently dodged those conversations well enough – or been rude enough – that they'd resorted to presumably getting Olivia Benson to take her out for dinner one night and cutting through the small-talk to just right out say: "So, you need to tell me something you need or want for the babies so I can let Brian know and he can get these women off your back." And, fair enough. She'd attempted some bullshit list of things that would be easy to get transported back to Chicago. Another reason she needed to get back to New York. To get the rest of her stuff sent home and to let her co-workers bestow whatever it was they were going to bestow on her. Tummy play mats or something. Whatever those were. Because apparently – she'd been told repeatedly – asking for diapers was unacceptable. The people who said that clearly hadn't researched just how many dirty diapers she was expecting to have to change over the next two to three years – and just how much a box of those things cost.

"You know you're going to have to play nice with Will this weekend, right?" Jay said, because apparently her look was enough to shift topics. He wanted to talk Kelly as much as she wanted to talk Gaby. It was best to leave all that in the past. Not turn past things into present problems. They had enough problems to be sorting out. And Erin would really prefer to just keep it to their own problems – not Will's. Though, she supposed he was one of their problems.

"Why ...?" she groaned anyway, though.

Jay shrugged. "He got his shorts in a knot about me taking Eth to Ready Player One without him."

Erin made a noise. "Okay, well, then I guess you're going to Ready Player One without me."

He raised his eyebrow at her again. But the truth was she really didn't care. Jay was much more a consignor of Eighties pop culture and Spielberg movies and indoctrinating Ethan than she was. And the concept of having to sit in a movie theater comfortably – while pregnant – and potentially deal with steps in the dark while desperately needing a bathroom made the movie sound less appealing. And if skipping out on that play-date with Eth meant she could also avoid the pre-show whining of Will – the deal was pretty much sealed that she wasn't going to attend.

But Jay was giving her that look. The one that said he disapproved. The one that said they spent a whole lot of time with her family. The one that said this was spending time with her little brother. And him. Doing something he liked and wanted to do. The one that made her feel guilty.

So she provided, "Hank made it sound like he wanted a bit of one-on-one time. To talk. Alone. If you're taking Ethan to a movie that'd be a good time to get that in."

Jay stared at her but then allowed, "Fine. But I agreed to let Will tag along on the agreement he'd come over and help with the nursery furniture after."

She sighed and gazed at him. "That really doesn't need to get done this weekend."

He eyed her more firmly. "Yea, Erin, it does. I want you to see it and be happy with it and it to be ready to go in case the next time you get back, there's four of us in the house."

"And that still doesn't need to happen this weekend," she pressed. "I'm home all week."

"And I'll be working and might not get a chance to put together the furniture with the time I'm getting home."

"So I'll work on it during the day."

"No," Jay stressed at her. "You won't. You can supervise me and Will – and Eth – all you want on Saturday afternoon."

"You know the two of them helping I just going to make it a longer process."

"Eth likes woodworking—"

"This isn't exactly woodworking," she contended.

"He knows how to use tools and put shit together, Erin. And Will does too."

She raised her eyebrow at him. They both knew Will was sort of in the helpless category. He wasn't exactly a men's man in a lot of ways. She was pretty sure that Natalie – and Nina – did any home repairs in those relationships. Which was absolutely fine. You shouldn't need a guy to throw a wrench or change a light bulb or the motor oil for you. But it was sure nice to not to have to be the one doing it for him either.

"Because he's a plastic surgeon?" Erin mouthed.

"Just play nice," Jay said.

She shrugged. "Then tell him I really don't want to be his Go Ask Alice for workplace relationships. And I also don't want to hear anything more about this umbilical cord, stem cell therapy stuff this trip. And if he mentions it around Hank or Ethan someone's foot is going to end up his ass."

"Okay …," Jay said quietly and stared at her more. "Are we going to talk to the doctor about it a bit more tomorrow, though?"

Erin exhaled and ran her hand to try to push her bangs off her forehead. She felt so hot anymore. Hormones. Like she was some kind of sweaty whale. She rested her hand again against the culprits – and maybe some solution for Ethan. Maybe. Down the road.

"We can ask about the paperwork to freeze them," she allowed. "But …" she shook her head. "The rest of it is Hank's decision. Ethan's. I told him about it. He said he'd look into it or call the researchers at the University. But Eth's … he doesn't want to do more trials. Hank doesn't seem to want to put him through more. Not right now."

Jay was quiet and stared at the ceiling. Though, his hand came and rested on top of hers. Both of them resting over the babies who had quieted for the moment.

"You didn't say how the training session went," he said. "Beyond Eth being stoked about you picking him up at school."

She ran her hand down over her round – and his – and held it there, resting lower.

"I don't think I'll be much help this week," she said. "Or until this belly is out of the way. It was hard to get into position to get the electrodes in the right spot and to see what I was doing. Hank was having better luck."

Jay nodded. "He'll just have get them placed right before heading in," he said.

"I just don't know I'll be much help around here this week – when I was supposed to be helping with that."

Jay gazed at her. "Erin, there's lots of other stuff you'll be helping with. And it's good you're getting a stretch of time here before the twins get here. We can get some more done. Make sure we're ready."

She gave him a thin smile. "We so aren't ready."

He smiled a little bit at her. "We aren't, but we are," he said with too much reassurance. But it was reassurance she needed. And out of his mouth – she believed it.

So she leaned in and kissed him. His lips meeting hers. And staying with hers. It slowly building and getting more sensual until he broke away with heavy eyelids and gazed at her with the quiet question about what they were or weren't doing.

She gave him a little shrug. "Let's see …"

 *****START OF M RATING*****

He nodded a bit and moved his mouth back to her. He kissed her and then her earlobe and then her neck. His hand moved from her hip and skirted around the outside of the belly that had grown up between them and managed to still find its way between her legs. To the parts that always seemed to feel so full and swollen and wet anymore that they never really felt like they were hers – or working the way they should. They always felt a little odd. Different than the parts of her body she'd learned to find pleasure and gratification in. Ones that when she tried to calm the throbbing swell with a release herself always felt so foreign – and like her practiced touch wasn't her own. But that somehow Jay had re-learned how to touch her and move and slid his fingers around that overly sensitive area that still managed to feel so good – rather than just slightly odd.

She became distracted with it – and his mouth – that she'd almost forgotten to reach for him. She'd hardly needed to, though. He was more than ready with just the possibility and the anticipation. But her fingers skimming into the front of his shorts, still caused his breath to catch against her breath. And for his fingers to flick purposely in a way that made hers catches even more.

He backed away from her slightly and gazed at her, his hand coming up to stroke down her cheek and her too sweaty and matted hair – that she knew was likely even more unattractive, but you couldn't tell from the way he was looking at her.

"Want to get up?" he asked gently – but there was still the underlying need in his tone at this point. But that was okay. "Top? Or the countertop?"

She smiled a little at him. As much as sex had always been a negotiation of needs and wants and positions and triggers with them – it had taken on such a different tone now. That was decidedly unsexy but so fucking oddly sensual too. Long-term relationships were strange. Sex during pregnancy were strange. Being a family – and all the concessions that came with it – was strange. She couldn't even fucking remotely imagine having this kind of open conversation about how to position themselves to sort of comfortably get off together maybe for the less time in months while their was a giant baby belly with supposedly 'sleeping' but usually overly active babies between them – with anyone else. And maybe that was just the fucking beauty of it. Just why she knew … they were working. Because they were making this work. This was the real good, bad and ugly.

"I want to see you," was all the answer she provided. More than enough of one. True on so many levels. See him. Now. Here. Always. She saw him. And seeing him – knowing him – that's how it worked. Why it worked.

So he nodded and adjusted slightly – putting them at angles on their sides but still facing, as he nudged himself toward her, bring her legs up over him and pulling the pillow up to rest under the bump they'd made.

"Okay?" he asked.

She just nodded and he gave he a thin smile – but quietly comforting – as he pressed into her. As his one hand rested against her hip and the other reached up and across the V dividing them to find her chin and caress his thumb along her jaw.

Erin sighed a little at it and let her eyes drift shut. He was going to slow and so shallow and touching her so lightly. And it felt just like what she wanted – and needed – and she hadn't even known. Maybe just the sedative in the comfortable bed in the comfortable position and her pillow just the right way with her guy that she'd been dreaming about for weeks.

She let her eyes flicker open and gave him a smile. He was gazing at her intently. There wasn't urgency on his brow – though she could see the quiet need stirring as it grew.

"My hero," she teased him.

He made an amused noise and his hand shifted off her hip to against find its pressed between her widening thighs and wedging themselves between them and upward until he could stroke at her clit again.

Erin made another little noise at that and rested against the mattress a bit more, steadying herself for the sensations.

"Let me know if you want to cum or it gets to be too much," he said so matter-of-factly, in a way that once again wasn't particularly sexy. But it was.

And she lifted her head and looked at him. "Oh, I want to cum," she said firmly. "But you better be coming along for the ride."

Every nitty, gritty, weird and messy moment of it all. Now. Hopefully always.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **Family on Easter morning as a Hank POV will likely be nested, followed by a Hank/Jay chat likely from a Jay POV. Then I'll likely backtrack and do the promised Jay/Will chapter, which would be Jay POV.**


	6. Not So Rough

**Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted), Hereafter, and Onward Thankfully. This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

Erin glanced up at the stairs as she heard Hank's heavy footsteps come down them. He looked more than a little grizzled and tired that morning. Jay glanced at him too from where he was watching their coffee perk intently.

He gave them a grunt as he came and slumped on the stool next to where she'd been morning. She gave him a little smile.

"Looking a little rough, Hank," she said. She thought about busting his balls a bit more than that. To tell him that he looked like he'd had one too many. Like he'd been up all night. But she knew he likely had on both accounts. And it wasn't something she should be poking his ribs about.

Hank deserved a night out – and a 'night off' – now and then. But even though he'd couched it in getting a drink with Al, she knew that it was a lot more than that. Because it'd been accompanied by the statements: "I've just got to go handle a few things" and a look that said not to ask too many questions. A sediment that was verbally reinforced by Jay when she'd hissed at him what was going on. And, the reality was, she knew she probably didn't want to know. And even if there was a part of her that really did – she also knew she couldn't. Not now.

Her and Hank's relationship – their talks and everything they talked about – it had to just be in the personal realm now. It had to be as family. As father-daughter. And whatever he was going out to do with Al that night – whatever reason they were meeting up for – wasn't something that constitute family-time in their supposed family-weekend they were having.

"Alvin look this bad?" she pressed.

He just scrubbed at his face and then gazed at her. There was a touch of warning to it. A firm request – more of an order – that they switch topics. But a smack that said he hadn't had nearly as many as she thought. But she also knew that Hank could hold his alcohol. So could Al. For all it was to the point that he was likely more than bordering on being a functional alcoholic. And for Hank these days … she didn't know. Sometimes she felt like he was doing better and then there were times like this … where she felt like everything since they'd lost Camille – all the choices he'd made and things he'd done and the grieving he hadn't let himself do – was starting to catch up to him, and he was only coping with it so well.

He held up three fingers at her. A claim he'd only had two. She wasn't sure she believed him. But she also couldn't smell it on him and he was sitting right next to her.

"You slept in," she said.

That got more of a groan. She raised her eyebrow at him. She'd heard him come in. He hadn't exactly been quiet about it.

"Did you get any sleep?" she asked more directly.

He made another sound. It wasn't exactly a grunt but Erin knew he must've slept a bit. Eventually. She'd heard him moving around and talking to Ethan when he did come in.

It wasn't like she was getting much sleep either anymore these days. But she hadn't gone down to talk to him. Not when it involved going down stairs. And now when he'd woken up Jay too and he'd worked on rearranging the pillows around her – and then himself – to try to find some sort of comfortable positioning for both of them to drift off again for a bit longer.

"Sheets need to go through the wash," he graveled. "Night sweat. Soaked when I looked in on him."

There was a touch of accusation to his tone. Like she or Jay should've been checking on him more. But she ignored it. She instead took it as an explanation of all the noise he'd been making at three in the morning. And likely why she hadn't found him on one of the couches when she went downstairs herself. Which hadn't been too long after the racket he'd made.

She'd given up on trying to get anymore shut-eye around four-thirty and had waddled down. The door to the bedroom had been left open like Hank had intended to slip out but he'd clearly drifted off reading to Eth. Her baby brother who was struggling so much on so many levels right now was draped against his dad who'd let their latest novel effort fall against his chest when he'd let himself get some shut-eye of his own.

Shut-eye that Erin knew Hank needed. He looked so tired and distracted that trip – as much as she could tell he was trying to be present. But she'd still reached and pulled the door shut in the hopes he'd let himself sleep for a while. She'd thought for sure he would've heard – or felt – her shut the door. But even if he had, he'd stayed put and must've left himself drift off again. Because it was only now they were getting the joy of dour morning demeanor. Unlike him to not be getting up well before the seven in the morning that he was appearing in their kitchen.

"Couldn't figure out the damn washer," he muttered.

Erin shook her head at him and pulled herself up off the stool. "Pressing a button is very complicated," she mouthed at him.

She knew teaching Hank how to use their space-saving upright washer-dryer unit would be like trying to teach him how to use a microwave. It just wasn't worth it. Because Hank wouldn't adjust and adapt to "modern" technology that way. He didn't see the point. If something wasn't broke – don't fix it. Only with him it was more you kept fixing what was broken over and over again to just keep giving it second-chances and second … third and fourth lives. Like the washer and dryer he had in his basement. That Erin was certain him and Camille had bought as newlyweds and despite them being nearly thirty years old, he had no intention of upgrading. Even though the whole house shook during the thing's spin cycle and the dryer long ago stopped serving any useful function. Hence, clothes hanging wires sprung up through the rafters and flooring.

He grunted. "Dryer's full of stuff," as a secondary excuse.

"Mmm …," Erin allowed, giving him a look. "Because a couple somebodies bought us a ton of baby clothes."

He just gave her a smack.

But he had. And Jay had. They'd held off on buying clothes for so long. But after their appointment they'd dived in. Jay had been giddy enough that he had been the one who'd stopped. She was supposed to be dropping him off at work but instead he was parking them in front of a damn baby store and asking the clerk about "something take-me home outfits". He'd clearly felt self-conscious about saying that to the clerk – as the man standing there in front of her and had added, "My sister-in-law told me about them. She's a photographer. Will do photos for us that day or something." And Erin had just stared at him and he'd looked at her and shrugged. "Olive said they'd make for good pictures."

She stared at him more. "We need pictures of them in special outfits to take them home?"

"Oh, it's really common," the clerk had smiled and gestured to show them the fucking section of these things.

Erin had just stared at the back of Jay's head as she trudged after them. "Maybe we should get car seats to actually get them home in," she'd muttered.

"Oh, would you like to start a registry?" the clerk ha said.

Erin was going to say no. But Jay had quickly said 'yes' and the woman had gone to get them a scan gun to pick off things they wanted.

Jay had only shrugged at her. "We've got a date. There's the shower. And even if you don't want to tell the team anything for that, there's going to be some people who are going to want to get us … something, Erin. And there's a lot of somethings we could use some help with."

He'd tilted the $250 price tag of the car seat on the shelf closest to them. They'd had such back-and-forth on the shower. Or gifts, in general. Because it all felt like such a handout. Like such this forced intrusion on the lives of people around them like saying they were expected to buy them something and contribute to them raising their family. Because they weren't established enough to do it themselves. Which wasn't entirely true. But it was a bit of a stretch. Some of it. Whenever they crunched the numbers – especially when they started taking daycare into account – it all felt a little out of reach.

"Times two," he said and gestured around the rest of the store. "All of it. Times two."

She'd been sure to point out to him that they could eliminate at least one of those times two by not buying their finally officially (as they were going to get before she got there) daughter anything called a "take-me home" outfit. That maybe they didn't want to be buying a little girl anything called a "take-me home" outfit or instilling in her from this early age that such a thing existed.

But he was on a mission. "We've got a date now," he kept arguing. "We can buy stuff. We need stuff. It's real."

And she'd sighed at him. Because she still felt like buying stuff might jinx it all. It might set them up for some sort of tragedy or disappointment. That they might end up not getting to bring two babies home. Or maybe they might end up bringing no babies home. Or maybe the babies would end up in ICU. Or maybe it might still really end up being two boys. Or they'd be shocked and their early assured boy would actually be a girl. Or despite the weight and size estimates they were being size that their twins were actually going to be the watermelons that she felt like were growing in here and not the five-ish pounds they were more likely to be and anything they bought wouldn't fit them.

But they had a date. He was right. And Jay – the planner and organizer, who sometimes caused her to have the scary flash of 'you really do marry your father' – was thrilled to have that date. No matter how tentative that date might actually end up being.

The C-section date their new Chicago OB had set for them was actually a little earlier than Erin wanted. Just barely thirty-six weeks. But she'd gotten the impression that this OB had plans for the Memorial Day weekend and didn't want any emergency C-section or spontaneous labor interfering with those plans. So the babies would be getting pulled out before that.

Well, that and her body was just running out of space.

Her takeaway from the appointment had been that this Chicago doctor wasn't even sure they'd reach the thirty-six week mark. That there would still be an emergency C-section – but one while before the pre-scheduled date. It'd been couched around them actively monitoring it now. Weekly. But she wasn't sure that had been overly calming for her. Though, the doctor had seemed rather calm about it all.

Jay had too.

She wasn't as calm. Though she was trying to be. Despite her concerns about how to manage these last couple months. Despite her concerns about preemies being too premature. And weeks or months in NICU. About what if it happened in New York. And Jay wasn't there with her. Not for the birth or for those weeks when the babies had to stay in the hospital.

Because the solution was easy. According to Jay. According to the new doctor. It just was that she wouldn't go back to New York. Or she'd only be going back to retrieve her belongings – and Jay would be going with her or just doing it himself – and then that was that. But she was still weighing how much of a solution that was too. Or if it was just being … overly cautious.

She was still weighing it. Still trying to decide just how cautious she needed to be. To not be sitting on her ass for the next two months waiting for the babies to get there. But to not be doing anything that meant they'd be there any time now. And as much as she planned to talk to her doctor in New York on the phone on Monday, she also knew whatever she said, this week back in Chicago she'd have all the men in her life expressing their opinion on what she should be doing. And just how they thought someone should act and conduct themselves while pregnant.

"And then banned me from helping with nursery furniture," she added to Hank.

Because that had pretty much been the men's opinion. She'd gotten a lecture from Hank about lifting things and had been told to go and wash the clothes and linens that had been bought for the babies. Like she was some kind of housewife and home-maker. But she'd listened. Because her back didn't really want to be dealing with getting up and down and bending and sitting and twisting to get all the pieces in place on the shelving unit and diaper change table they were working at putting together in there.

And maybe because … it'd been nice to see Jay excited. To see Hank excited. That maybe she'd had a small bit of fun looking at the baby clothes too. To finally let herself to do. And to smile at the cutesy suggestions that Jay was retrieving from the racks. She'd let him pick his elephant "take-me home" sets. Because maybe they were a little cute and it might be the only time she'd agree to dress them alike. Ever. And she suspected as Jay came down from the nervous euphoria he was fidgeting with, he'd agree that doing matchy-matchy would be a one-time thing in their family.

She'd waited until she'd been out for lunch with Hank on Saturday to officially let him in on the confirmation he asked for after every one of her appointments: "So they make it official I'm getting a grandson and granddaughter yet?" Every time. And he'd smiled so quietly and gazed at the table so long like he didn't know what to say.

But when he'd shown up to get Ethan later that afternoon he'd had four boxes of "first year essential sets". Little collections of onesies and sleepers and pants and sleep sacks and bibs and hooded blankets and hats and socks and mitts all packed neatly into boxes. A wardrobe ready to go.

Erin hadn't really known want to say and he'd just shrugged it off like he always did. "Camille would have you out helping you get you all set-up," he said. "Just … Looks like stuff I remember being useful. Had them a while. Just was …" and he'd looked her in the eye with a sort of far-off look that she understood. "Girl's has pink in it. Don't know how to feel about that. But got the elephant and safari animals you seem to have going on up in the nursery on them."

And she'd only had to just gaze at them to see that there were dinosaurs and cars and more safari animals and farm animals and yellow duckies peaking through the other sets. A "boy's" pack and two "unisex" to go along with the pinks and purples and reds peeking out of the plastic of the "girls".

"Thank you …," she'd managed.

It'd been sincere. Just like all of it had been sincere. The quiet little things he'd been doing the past months. Maybe since she was a twelve year old kid. But now as a grandpa – to her kids who weren't even there yet. The offers of help he'd given to Jay. Help painting the nursery. And dragging the used furniture up stairs – pieces Hank had offered up himself and the giant antique dresser she'd talked Jay into buying for the room too. Moving Camille's rocking chair that had occupied her room growing up at the Voights for so long over to the house and up to that nursery when Erin knew that must've been hard for him. But he'd offered. And she got to know that she was going to rock her babies in the chair that two people who actually knew how to be parents had rocked her two brothers in. And even the patience he'd shown that Saturday – helping put together furniture when it meant he had to share space with Will too. For all the times she knew he'd bit his tongue over the years – and in the past year and past six months. About her being pregnant and not married and the status of her relationship.

So if he wanted to stop biting it to tell her to go do laundry and to stay out from underfoot – she let him. Just like she let him go out for his night with Al without asking questions or busting his balls right now. Just like she raised to get him a cup of coffee from the pot that Jay was starting at and smoothed down a tuff of bed-head for him that he'd missed when he run his hands and some water through his hair upstairs before coming down – giving it the smallest tug just like he still teased her with and teased Ethan with and teased Henry with now, and she knew he'd tease her kids like that too.

And she pressed a kiss against where she did it until he made a grunt and looked up at her. That usually got saved for Christmas and maybe his birthday or Father's Day if he wasn't being too much of a pain in the ass on a given year. But she gave him a thin smile.

"Happy Easter," she said.

He just gave her another one of those quiet smiles and looked back at the countertop until he reached and dragged the file she'd left before closer to him. She ignored it for a minute. She knew he wouldn't be able to see it. He didn't have his reading glasses on and he'd pawed at his breast pocket only to realize he was just in a tshirt and his glasses were likely elsewhere. Upstairs in the shirt pocket of the shirt he'd had on the night before. Or more likely in the interior pocket of the jacket she'd found that he'd tossed over the arm of their couch downstairs when he'd come in. He made a small noise at that misplacement but still squinted at the file.

"Grandpa glasses are downstairs, Old Man," she teased and gave his shoulder a rough fist bump before nudging around him to the kitchen. It only got one of those smacks of his. But said all that needed to be said. About any of it all.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **So chapters have not been writing the way I want them to at all. I had two others ahead of this that got started and stopped.**

 **This will likely end up being one with a continuation because I really wanted it to be a scene that included Ethan and Henry too. And some more banter between Hank Erin and Jay. So we'll see.**


	7. Karma

**Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted), Hereafter, and Onward Thankfully. This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

Hank looked up as Erin shoved a cup of coffee across the counter to him.

"Thank you," he muttered from his squinted focus on the file he'd claimed. Sometimes he fucking thought Magoo's optic neuritis was contagious. Sure seemed like his eyesight was set on making it harder for him to see what was coming these days.

But didn't get much more chance to glance over the file. As the coffee came into his line of sight, so did his girl's hand and she flipped the file shut.

"Since when do you even want deal with your own paperwork," Erin raise to him, raising an eyebrow.

He made a sound of acknowledgement. True. Supervisor role came with enough paperwork as it was. Past months had taken a whole new level. Whole lot of dotting your Is and crossing your Ts anymore. Not a lot of space left for fudging things around.

"Thought that city you're in rolls up the streets for Passover," he put to her.

Still didn't have much of a place in his heart – or life – for New York. But had started to accept maybe it was good for something. A couple somethings at least. Maybe a few more than that. Was getting two grandkids out of that little jaunt Erin had gone on. Was getting a daughter coming home with her head on a lot straighter than he'd seen her with for a lot of her adult life. But supposed kids did that to you. More than that, though. She had better focus. He could see it in her. Knew better what she wanted. How she wanted to be really spending her life. Who and where and how she wanted to be investing the time she had. That was something too. And it'd this year it'd likely been a good something too to have her out of Chicago and off Denny's radar. For now.

Part of him sort of wished that the pregnancy wasn't quite as far along. That she'd be staying in New York a bit longer than she was. Give this all – himself – more time to sort this all out. Let it resolve. Without giving anyone any reminders about just how much of his girl she was. What kind of water – and then some – she'd carried for him over the years. Ways he sure wished now that she hadn't. She'd wanted to save him and settle debts. Neither of which he thought she needed to be doing. And thing was now – it might end up having to sacrifice himself for his choices and actions anyway – to protect her. And his boy and his grandbabies the way he'd wanted to from the get.

Still sorting it out. Still trying to make the plan. Figure it out. Get Al in a decent place in all this too. And just didn't know how that would play out. Al was running his own game and had his own thoughts and opinions on how to play this. His own ideas and morals. And he was crumbling under it a bit. Could see it. More and more. Starting to worry that Al might be drowning himself in a bottle or swallowing his gun. Though, if he ended up in jail, could be looking at a worse way to go. And didn't know how much O felt he left to be fighting for, or living for, anymore. Disagreed. But understood. Knew loss. And also knew revenge and vengeance. And didn't know it did much to make dealing with your demons any better or easier. That was pretty much getting proven daily right now as they both got dragged through the ringer. Hated seeing Al like this almost as much as he hated knowing what it'd do to his own family if Denny and the Ivory Tower got their way.

But his family – his girl looking as big as he remembered Cami being when she was ready to pop with just one kiddo inside her – was all the reason he needed. Maybe it'd be the reason he could – or should – get out of the city a bit himself too. Hard to do. It'd look bad. Send the wrong message. Maybe given them the kind of opening they needed to pull more shit. Or give people like Al or Ruzek reasoning to go second-guessing about what page they all needed to stay on. No good.

And that was even taking trucking around Magoo out of the equation. But he'd do with a change of scenery too. Where his health was, though, just made it … a fucking mess. But the kid still wanted to see his sister in the other city. And to see some of the shit in that city. That window of opportunity was closing fast. Maybe it'd already closed if Erin did some listening to her body and those babies of hers and her docs. But wasn't sure that would happen. So maybe what would happen would be that he and Magoo would be getting a trip out to New York to see his new grandbabies. And likely end up dealing with getting her moved home and everything else.

Being a parent didn't end. Not age expiration date on that one. No matter how grown-up they get.

"I'm no theologian, but I'm pretty sure Passover was Friday," Erin said. Sass.

Proof and point. Your kids are still your kids. Even in their thirties and pregnant. Still the same pain in your ass. Least soon she'd be getting a taste of it. Already was. His grandbabies were giving her a run-for-her-money even on the inside.

"What'd I send you to Ignatius for if you can't even pinpoint that," he put right back to her, taking a gulp of the brew.

Halstead didn't fucking know how to make a cup of coffee. Never strong enough. And he could use it strong that morning. Needed to get the eyes popping open and getting into focus a bit faster. Freshen up and sharpen up. Things to do.

"That, Hank, is something I'm still trying to figure out," she cocked her head at him. More tone and attitude. And had heard her opinion on her experiences at Ignatius more than once. And her heard opinion about him still having E enrolled there ad nauseam.

He just smacked at her, though. Because that wasn't a conversation he felt like having again. He'd more than expressed his opinions and reasoning on that whole fucking mess. And he'd more than sat through listening to hers. Didn't need to hash this out again. Not on a family weekend.

Smack said enough. Because she broke eye contact and pushed the laptop she'd been working on shut and shoved the file underneath it. Not quiet inaccessible but the message that it was off-limits was clear. And that was fair enough.

"I need to have this filed tomorrow," she mumbled at him.

"What happened to them giving you the week off," he put to her, taking another awful gulp out of the mug.

"Not off," she stressed. "Telecommuting."

Hank hummed at that bullshit over the rim of the mug. He put it down. Tasted of the shit that was getting spouted at him. Might end up having to do a coffee run. Or buying the two of them a fucking Keurig for their birthdays – or baby shower gift. Even the flavored water coming out of those pods had to be better than this shit.

"Don't worry, Hank," she mouthed at him. "I'll have lots of time to play babysitter and taxi for Ethan too."

He gave a another little smack and kept her eyes hard. That wasn't exactly the issue.

Issue was she was supposed to be slowing down some. More than some. That she was supposed to be getting the nursery finished up. Getting herself into a position she was as prepared as she could be for these kiddos arriving.

Had hoped that the doctor's appointment the other day would've given her that bit of a reality check. But clearly hadn't quite yet. Might not until she landed herself in the hospital with some harsh contractions or spotting or thrown out back or false labor or something.

And she pushed it to that point she'd end up pissed off at herself. Docs might put her on full bed-rest or keep her in hospital right up until the babies were safe to come out. Then she'd really be bored. But, Hank knew a whole lot more than sometimes his stubborn girl needed to learn things the hard way.

"Want to bank as many hours as I can," Erin contended. So at least his look must've said what he wanted.

Hank just looked at Jay, though, and gave him a smack too. Guy was leaning against the counter in the kitchen, arms crossed, eyeing her. Knew that he'd like Erin to just bite the bullet on all this too. Get her ass settled down right there in the townhouse. Just let them figure out as a couple and a family what to do about the reduced income.

But also knew Jay wouldn't get into that with her with him sitting there. Least her being home for the week would give them lots of time to bicker about it. Have a good spat. See if Jay could win out at this one. Good luck to him on that. But Hank was at the point he was ready to tell the guy to be as much of an ass as he wanted about it. Pull the spouse card – or fiancé card, or boyfriend card, or playing house card or whatever the fuck it was that they were still putting off too. Pull the him being the father card and wanting – deserving – some fucking say in this at this point. Wasn't just Erin's life or body or career they were talking about now. Two little people. Two little people who'd be put through a hell of a lot and a hard road – maybe a life-long hard road – if choices were made that nudged them along to arriving earlier than they should. So this wasn't one that Jay needed to let go on or back down on. Even if he was biting his tongue now and could tell he was. It was written all of his face.

"Got thoughts on breakfast?" was all Jay put to him, though. "Could smash up the eggs."

Hank's eyes drifted over to the plate of colored eggs on the opposite side of the counter. They were a bit of a mess. But Erin and Olive had sat down with a tremoring fourteen-year-old and a rambunctious two-year-old to do them. They weren't exactly going to be pieces of art.

Though, could tell which ones Olive had managed to get in on doing herself. She could do crafty shit. Erin's - he wouldn't offend her by venturing a guess which ones were hers. He'd probably mix it up and get more dirty looks.

"E will want them at lunch," Hank provided.

Erin raised an eyebrow at him. "Have you looked outside? It's not exactly picnic weather."

He made a sound of acknowledgement. Fucking weird winter and spring they were having. Weather couldn't fucking decide what it was doing. But an April 1st Easter was sure doing its best to make fools out of them all. Definitely not spring in Chicago. Though, there'd been other Easters where Camille had had them eating their hard-boiled egg picnic lunch out in a snow bank. Least it wasn't that bad this year. But definitely looked like they'd be contending rain – at least grey skies – if they were going to try to get the boys outside for any part of the day.

"Is Eth awake?" Erin asked.

Hank grunted. "He stirred," he allowed. "What'd time he go down?"

Erin just glanced at Jay. She was already dragging herself up the stairs when he was headed out the night before.

Jay shrugged. "After the game."

Hank stared. "Meaning."

Jay looked at him more directly. "Around eleven."

Hank grunted at that. Didn't particularly like the kid staying up that late. Not with the way E slept anymore. Which was pretty much him up-and-down all night. With night sweats. With his bladder not co-operating. In pain. Freezing cold. Then spending the day lagging between the insomnia, lack of sleep, the fucking drugs and the M.S. Did nothing for the kid's mental health or cognitive functioning. But supposed it was his spring break. No school. Holiday weekend. And opening weekend for his Cubbies. Knew he'd be pushing it as late as he'd be allowed to get away with. And knew too he got away with more when he was over at Jay and Erin's. But supposed too that's what older sisters were for. For now.

"Give him a few more minutes," he conceded. Really couldn't give him too much more than that. Would be needing to get E's morning meds into him if he didn't decide to drag his ass out of bed. Battle every fucking day to get him up and on the go anymore too. Made morning's tedious.

"If you want him bright-eyed and bushy tailed when Olive gets here with Henry, you might want to go yank off the blankets now," Erin said.

"Mmm …," he acknowledged. "H on a roll?"

"Henry takes after his grandpa and thinks six a.m. is sleeping in," she grumbled at him.

He allowed a snort at that but patted back at the stool next to him that she'd vacated. Only needed to be standing so long. She had one of those back and belly braces wrapped around her trying to support and re-align all that weight his grandbabies. Only ever looked like it was working so well for her. Especially with her loitering down there in what looked like a pair of Halstead's sweats and tanks. Even the extra sag wasn't fitting around the babies too well. So had clearly resorted to the vice of the brace.

"Just you wait," he said.

Erin made a sound at that as she eased back onto the stool. Still didn't look comfortable. Likely should've directed her to grab a seat in their front room instead. But wasn't like she was getting up and down off that couch with much grace either. Made him wonder how she was managing in her day-to-day in New York too. Should have – deserved to have – Jay there helping haul her out of chairs. Carrying her groceries. Letting her stay off her feet. Or in Erin's case, more likely, keeping her off her feet.

"I don't have to wait," she said. "They already keep me up all night."

"Mmm … will let you sleep again when they're about five or six. Get a few years," he said. "Then keep you up worrying all night by about fourteen or fifteen."

"Thank you, Hank," she muttered. "That's helpful."

He shrugged. "Karma," he said and gave her shoulder a little squeeze and shake.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **This chapter is getting split so something gets posted today. A continuation will be posted tomorrow — same scene, still Hank's POV.**


	8. Old Fashioned

**Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted), Hereafter, and Onward Thankfully. This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

Erin sagged a bit against the counter as Jay shoved a glass of orange juice in front of her. He got a thin smile.

"Thanks, babe …," she allowed, taking a sip.

Hank eyed him. The guy tried. Could tell. Had watched the way he'd been cleaning himself up since the holidays. Since the pregnancy. Looked healthier, happier than he had. Had managed to pull himself out of the hole he'd gotten into. Or at least done real good at getting himself yanked up back toward solid ground again before the babies got there.

Hank respected that. Respected the kid likely more than Jay was willing to let himself acknowledge or admit. More than they had any sort of discussions on. Though, they'd had some talks that winter. More than a few. About this and that and the other thing. Funny what you could get men – young men, your sons, your kids … yourself – willing to talk about if you masked it amidst having to do something else. A job to keep your hands busy maybe enough that you were willing to let your mind drift some and your lips flap a bit.

Been a lot of little tasks and chores to do that with that winter. Here and there. But grateful he'd been allowed to help out. That he was still being allowed to help out. A bit. Here and there. Maybe grateful too that Jay was letting him get to know him that way. Or that he was letting Jay know him a bit more too. Grateful to get to have some of those conversations now while there was time. While he could. In case … there wasn't as much opportunity to have them in the future. In case it all went sideways.

And knew Jay needed some of those conversations. Assurances given to him through the backdoor – without him asking for them. But Hank knew what it was like. In his own way. Knew what it was like not having your pop around to have these non-conversation conversations with. To figure out some way to ask your questions and say what you're feeling without having to attach some sort of emotions or insecurities around it. To try to figure it all out on your own. Knew being a cop and being on the job. Knew spending your wife's pregnancy scared shitless about what was to come or what might happen and a whole lot of what-ifs. Knew maybe not getting to be around for it as much as you'd like.

And knew having a strong-headed, independent-minded, strong, mouthy, career-oriented woman carrying your kids. It was a fucking mind field to navigate. Throw in all the hormones going on – and her getting even more pissed off about the emotional volatility than you are frustrated at the walking on egg shells in trying to support and appease her and the babies – and it's just a fucking mess. He knew that.

Jay was learning it. Still learning it. And he was going to be in for a fucking treat. Because, Hank had sure learned that a whole lot of those personality traits get passed on to your kids in nature and nurture. And then when it's all mixed up with your own bull-headed quirks – and you were just fucked. Jay and Erin were going to be fucked times two. Hank already knew – could tell already even with the way Erin was carrying those kids and the way he could see them kicking and moving around right up and through her belly – that they were going to be two stubborn little fucks they'd be dealing with. Pains in the ass. But he couldn't wait to meet them. Maybe couldn't wait to get to watch how much those pains in the asses frustrated their parents too. They both had it coming. Long over-due.

Also knew that he didn't much like – or respect – Jay's attire that morning. Maybe they'd worked on getting a bit closer – coming to some kind of understanding. But didn't need to be this comfortable with each other. Guy was pretty much wearing a matching outfit to Erin's – minus a shirt. In the fucking kitchen.

"She bringing H over?" Hank put to his daughter instead. Because he didn't want to be staring at Halstead's bare chest any more than he had to. But thought he knew the answer already.

Had nearly stepped on a couple plastic eggs that had appeared on that level and the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. Doubted they were for E to find. Bit old for that. Though, also wouldn't be too surprised if Erin had thrown a bit of something in some of the eggs for Magoo too. Since he'd likely be tasked with helping H collect them. And because that's the kind of older sister she was.

Funny. He felt in some ways that his girl was in a bit of denial about how pregnant she actually was. Knew that there was a lot of reasons for it. Worrying about the future too much. About family and career and health and the kiddos. And anxiety about motherhood and all the baggage she carried with that. But Hank already had more than enough proof she was going to be just fine at it. Had a lot more confidence in her abilities than she likely had in her own. But that was par for the course. Erin was always too hard on herself. Her own worst critic.

But he'd spent nearly eight years watching her grow into the kind of mother she was going to be. Eight years because where he'd watched her pick up the slack. His slack. And the slack created when his boys where left without a mom. Watched her become the only one that J would talk to – and almost listen to after any and all kinds of fights and arguments. Watched her take care of Magoo. To be that female role model and feminine touch in his life. To give him some of that emotional care and compassion that she was just so much better at than him in some ways.

And to make sure E got little childhood things like this. The shit Hank had never been so good at. Especially in those first few years after Camille was gone and he hadn't quite figured out how to be a single father. Or a father to three damaged kids – all hurt and scarred from the loss and experience in different ways. All at different ages and stages in their lives. And Erin had been a lot more constant – a stable force - for his boys than he had.

The big and the little things. The adult there for them. The good cop even though she had always been pretty good at tearing either of them a new one and then bickering with them like they were all still in fucking middle school the next second.

So maybe Erin wasn't so good at the arts and crafts. But she was good at showing up. She was good at putting in the thought and the effort. At making the sacrifice. Doing the small, little nice things that turned into real memories and real family traditions and foundation that got built on. Being the easier one to talk to. Someone for the boys to talk to. And figured – knew – she'd be that with her own kiddos too. That and more.

"Yea," Erin allowed. "Olive said she could see the lines and crowds starting to form over at the Museum Campus and Soldier's Field already."

Hank grunted. "Could still try for Maggie Daley," he offered.

Talks of taking H to an Easter Egg hunt had been floated. Museums, Soldier's, Maggie Daley. Usual suspects. The biggies. But he was sort of indifferent. Be whatever Olive wanted.

But maybe the truth was he wasn't that indifferent at all. Truth was that he'd rather have a Sunday just sitting around a bit with his kids and grandkid(s). Because these days he couldn't really say how many more of those he was going to get. And he wanted to take advantage of them. To just watch some opening weekend ball. Cook up dinner. Watch the kiddos goof around. Watch his girl and his little boy poke at each other like they always had – because he'd got to learn that age gap only meant so much in the ways siblings got along. Get to see his girl – home, carrying his grandbabies. Maybe get a bit of a chance to see or feel them move some again.

And he didn't really think Erin or Magoo were all that up to being on their feet chasing after a two-and-a-half-year-old on the hunt for plastic eggs in the midst of throngs of people. Public egg hunts weren't what they used to be anymore anyways. Didn't even try to hide them. Just carpeted a field with them and let the kids tackle each other to get the things.

Fucking stupid. All this instant gratification. Everyone get a bucket of the things. Everyone gets a prize. Everyone walks away with a 1st place ribbon. Wasn't how life worked.

"I looks pretty gross out," Erin muttered.

"It's only supposed to get up to thirty," Jay provided. "Chance of some rain …"

"Or snow," Erin grumbled.

"… around lunch," Jay finished off.

Hank grunted and set his eyes back on him and gave him a smack. "Then planning on putting clothes on before my grandson gets here?"

Jay looked down at himself and crossed his arms, giving him an indifferent shrug. "Still be a bit."

"Olive was going to stop at Do-Rites," Erin provided.

Hank grunted at that and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. Maybe he wouldn't have to go out for a coffee run. He shot off Olive a text. Hoped she got it. And it didn't put her out too much.

"See if they're open yet," Erin said. "And had anything ready Eth can eat."

Speaking of. Kid must've almost heard that. Heard the clatter of movement and fumbling around. Click of dog nails hitting the floor. Mutt was getting real bad about staying off the furniture lately. Mostly because he was sticking even closer to Magoo. Really attached at the hip. Bear knew his person wasn't doing so hot. Could see it in his eyes. Gave him these real worried looks. And that usually stopped Hank from snapping at the mutt too much about getting his all-fours on the ground.

"There he is …," Hank muttered and rose up off the stool, putting the phone back in his pocket. Headed for the stairs.

E wasn't doing so well with stairs these days. The new electrical stimulation device they'd got hooked up to his one leg was throwing him for a bit of a loop. Both of them.

Already resulting in some fights and meltdowns. Just kept telling E he needed to give it time. Time to get used to it. Way it felt. Time to learn how to use it. To let his body – his muscles, his nerves, his brain – adjust to it. But how often could you say that to a kid. To a teen-aged kid with stubborn-ass genes in him. And when you don't really know what he's going through or how much it hurts or what it feels like. But you do know as a father that their pain is your pain. But there wasn't a way to really explain that to a teenager either. Just locked horns and grit teeth and fucking prayed that the kid ended up okay on the other end of it. With time.

Was hardly over to the stairs, though, when he heard Erin's nails tapping on the island's countertop and glanced back to see her making a bit of a silent ordered gesture over into the front room where it looked like a hoodie of Jay's had been tossed by the one of them was. Could feel Jay giving her some eyes and look back like he wasn't going to take the order. But Erin's stare-down won out and the guy started to move through the kitchen as Hank mounted the steps.

Got to Magoo just as he was coming out of the room. Had managed to get up and to his crutches. But still put out the offer: "Need a hand getting down?"

E rubbed at his eyes, giving him a sleepy nod. Might be one of those days. But hopefully he'd perk up a bit after they got some food into him and his nephew was over. Hopefully he'd perk up a whole lot over the week of having his sister there. Having a firmer date on when she'd definitely be home for good. The hope that maybe it'd be sooner.

Didn't want to put more on Erin when she had a whole lot of her own stuff on her plate. Other things she really needed to be worrying about. But really hoped that her being around that week would help buoy E a bit. Calm him. Level him. Maybe she'd talk a bit of sense to him. Cheer him up a bit. Because his kid wasn't in the best place these days. Darkness around him. Anxiety through the roof. Depression and frustration with his body and health. And Hank never seemed to say the right shit to help any of it. Didn't have that right touch. And work – Woods – just made it so fucking hard to be there as much for him these days as he knew he needed to be if he was going to make sure Magoo came through to the other side.

Tried, though. Kept trying to lift him up some. Just like now, as he stooped a bit and wrapped his arm around and under E's ass enough to hoist him up.

Fourteen and still the height and weight of about an eleven-year-old. Not much of a load for all the load the kid had to carry inside his body.

It pissed Hank off so fucking much. It tore him apart. Not knowing what to do or how to get in front of any of this. Maybe it all being too far gone to get in front of.

But how could he end up in lock-up when his boy was like this. Having even a glimmer of the road – long or short, he didn't know – ahead of E. But how could he let O take the bullet for him too. Let him go down and through hell. When Al had already been through enough of a living hell of his own. When he'd contributed more than once to the various rings that Alvin had had to walk through already. Didn't know, though, if Al would come out the other end of this one though. But if Hank confessed – took the blow back on that bullet he never should've fired – he wasn't sure if he'd get through either.

And that was the fucking problem. Because of Magoo. Because Erin and those grandbabies. Because they were going to need more help and hands than either of them would be readily willing to swallow their pride and ask for soon enough. Because Hank wasn't sure how much help there'd be for them if they were left managing E and two little babies. Because he got the sense that Jay's brother might be interested in being the "cool uncle". But that wouldn't be much good until the kids were likely about six or seven years old. Because Jay was lacking in the family department too. Because Hank didn't think those babies were going to be having any other grandparent involvement in their life. Both by their other grandfather's choice – and their own father's. And he'd seen how that played out for H – and Olive. And it was a rough road.

Because of H too. Because that kid was too fucking smart and too fucking hyper. And as much as he wasn't surprised – because of his grandmother and because of his father – he knew that road too. He'd – they'd – been there with E. And he could see it coming now as H got closer to his third birthday. And on the days he did manage to be the one picking him up from daycare for Olive and got to chat with the women there. Knowing he'd be starting up with pre-K in the fall. And knew as that started up there was going to be talks about assessments for H.

He could see it coming. AD/HD, Autism Spectrum, Asperger's, gifted, neuro-atypical. Fancy words that had gotten thrown around with E too. They'd eventually settled on "gifted" or "developmentally advanced" or some bullshit. But Hank suspected if E hadn't had his brain knocked around so much and then eaten apart by M.S., they likely would've settled on some sort of high-functioning Asperger's the further E got through school.

Didn't really matter now. His boy was still smart about the things he wanted to be smart about. About the things he was good at. But "cognitive dysfunction" and "neuro-atypical" was just part of the overlying reality. Didn't really matter if it was him being born that way. Or if it was the brain damage. Or if it was the lesions the M.S. was leaving in his brain. It was all kind of a moot point.

But he did see a lot of E in H. It brought back a lot of memories about him as a little guy. And some of the fucking arguments him and Camille had. He just so hadn't been able to relate to a whole lot of what came out of E's mouth in those early years. He was Camille's perfect little boy and miracle baby but he'd been a bit of a strange entity to Hank. Not the boy's boy from the get that Justin had been. Too smart for his own good and a little too odd. And obsessive and focused. And E still was. Just was that now Hank couldn't imagine his little boy being any other way. He was his perfect little boy now too. Always had been but there'd been a process in reaching that. Really hadn't been until the last few years that he'd gotten there. And he could still remember the rollercoaster of it all. The stress of the appointments with doctors and teachers and therapists and shrinks.

And even though he knew … women, mothers … they seemed to able better with this than the men, he still didn't want Olive to have to navigate all that on her own. She was having to navigate enough on her own already.

He really didn't want any of his kids or grandkids having to wade through life without getting to bear some kind of witness to it. Without being there to help.

Not getting out of this – fixing it – just made him feel like he was letting Camille down in so many fucking ways. For all the sacrifices she'd made for their family. To create their family. He'd been left with the responsibility to honor that. To get their kids through and grown and safe. It was his job. A promise he'd made. And it just fucking felt like it was getting close to coming undone.

A few steps away anymore. Just teetering there. Denny kept pushing in closer and closer, harder and harder. Only so many favors and efforts and plays he could run to try to win this game. And it felt like it was getting close to game over. Game over if he let himself get beat. Game over still if he let Al throw the fucking thing and take the fall.

Just a few fucking steps away. But only a few fucking steps now too. And the now was what was in front of him. Could deal with. Just needed to get E down those steps. Just get him down the stairs and set him down and hope that he'd taught E and Erin enough navigate the rest of the way on their own. That Jay was enough of a man – maybe more of a man than him – that he'd pick up the slack … clean up the mess … he'd made.

But Bear barged upfront of them. As usual. Stopped on the stairs and chomped on one of those plastic eggs.

"Bear," Hank rasped hard and gave the dog a small little kick. "Leave it."

Dog only listened so much. Bolted down the rest of the stairs with the egg in his mouth only to run into Halstead, coming out of the front room with the hoodie drapped unzipped over his shoulders.

"Drop it," Jay ordered.

Bear wasn't having any of it, though. Halstead bent and yanked the cracked and crunched on plastic out of the dog's mouth and set it on the counter in front of Erin.

"Lovely …," she muttered and gingerly worked at retrieving the contents like she'd never gotten dog drool on her hands before and didn't want to start now.

Dog didn't care. Already was off and sniffing around the room. Spotting the rest of the eggs and doing a damn good job at it, especially since Hank doubted Erin had put any food in the things. Would leave picking out edible treats to Olive – because she had a whole lot of options on that. Not that Hank could say much about it with how he had to manage E's diet. But still thought she went a little overboard when they were just talking a little kid with no known health issues or allergies yet. Bit of candy and chocolate and sugar once and a while wasn't going to hurt him. But the family had pretty much decided not to wade into that muck with her. Let her do what she wanted. Lots of other – more meaningful and useful – occasional treats they could spoil H with.

"Bear," Hank ordered, as he set E down. "Get back here," he said with a snap and a point at the stool next to Erin that E was dragging himself up onto, rubbing at his eyes more. Didn't even seem to register that the eggs were there and it might be something he was interested in.

"Happy Easter, Merry Sunshine," she teased him.

E just grunted at her a bit and slumped his cheek against the heel of his hand. "I forgot my pills upstairs," he grumbled.

"I'll grab them," Jay allowed. Hank hoped he'd put an actual shirt on while he was up there. But reeled it in.

Instead he went around and grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and reached for the fridge door to get the OJ out for Magoo. But stopped and stared at the whiteboard the two of them had up there. Split in two. Boys names down one side. Girls down the other. Some stars and checkmarks next to a few.

He glanced over his shoulder at his girl and gave her a thin smile. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him and he just tapped his knuckle against the board, before opening the door.

"Oh," she allowed. "Most of those are Jay's."

"And mine," Ethan said. "You can vote. Don't use star or checkmarks, though. Something else. So they know which ones you voted for."

"And your votes will carry a whole lot of weight …," Erin said with that sarcasm of hers.

Jay came back down – with a tshirt on now – and set the pillbox from the bathroom in front of Eth.

"What are we voting on?" he asked.

"The twins' names," Ethan provided.

"Because I put a whole lot of weight on your opinions," Erin said.

Jay put his elbows on the counter and looked in her eyes. "She doesn't even put weight on my opinions."

She leaned into his space. "I just don't think Irish, Catholic saint names that can be shortened to one syllable are a necessity."

"Timothy – Tim is a perfectly acceptable name," Jay said.

"Dad, you should put a vote next to it," Ethan provided. "It's the kid from Jurassic Park."

"Which is why it is on the unacceptable name list," Erin put pointedly.

Jay gestured at Ethan. "He is the absolute only person in our lives – possibly in this child's life – who will ever associate the name Tim with dinosaurs."

Hank smiled at that and gave E's messed up hair a bit of a scrub. "Take you medicine and stay out of these kinds of arguments, if you know what's good for you."

Ethan huffed at him. "Dad, I'm looking out for my niece and nephew," he argued. "Erin is picking stupid names."

"I have not told you any of the names I'm thinking about exactly because I don't want anyone's commentary on what they think of the name," she eyed him.

Eth finished gulping back his medication and stared at her. "Jay said you had 'Brooklyn' on your list."

Erin glared his way. "It's gender neutral," she said flatly.

"I don't think I'm being way out of line when I just ask that our boy's name is a boy's name and a girl's name is a girl's name," Jay muttered at her and straightened.

"It can be either," she argued. "Jesse, Jamie, Jordan, Avery, Hunter, Dylan, Mackenzie, Harper, Sawyer-"

"Campbell," Jay cocked an eyebrow at her and then looked over at Hank like the guy actually thought he was dumb enough to wade into any of this. "As in the soup."

Erin glared at him and he shifted his eyes to meet them. "I don't like unisex names," he said.

"You realize my name is a 'unisex' name," Erin said.

Jay crossed his arms. "Not on paper, Erin."

"And Brooklyn is just pretentious and stupid."

Hank let out a snort and batted gently at his boy's forehead, while giving his girl a look. "There's why I pay the big bucks of Ignatius." It got an eye roll out of her.

"And it's some rich soccer player kid name," Ethan added.

Erin gestured over at Jay. "Former soccer player."

That got a real death glare. Like that really sealed the deal that it was an absolute no-go. No debate to be had on it. And Hank could respect that. Thought 'Brooklyn' sounded like a pretty fucking stupid name. But also wasn't about to express that.

"Not a rich or famous one," E contended. "And besides everyone is going to know you only picked the name 'cuz that's where you …" Ethan made a face and a disgusted gestured. "Did it. Made 'em."

Jay made an amused. "Conceived?" he suggested.

It got a more disgusted face out of Magoo. But Hank had to agree – pretty disgusting choice. Wouldn't get his vote. But he was smart enough to stay well out of this. Had been smart enough to take some good steps back when it'd come to picking names for the boys too. Let Camille direct those conversations and decisions. Though, had maintained a veto option. Hadn't had to use it. But she'd never come up with anything like 'Brooklyn' on her list of options. Or a whole lot of the other options that Erin had rattled off like they'd been up for consideration and debate over the past six months between these two.

Camille had been much more practical and conservative in her thought process. Maybe that happened when you're going into it as parents christened with names like Camille and Henry. Not exactly barnburners there to go through life with. Though, there had been some on Cami's list that were a little too Italian for his liking. And then she'd floated 'Richard' at him when she was pregnant with Justin. And as much as he was for paying his respects to his father, wasn't about to label his son a 'Dick'. Would've likely worked out even more badly for Justin's persona if they had gone that route.

Hank looked at the disgusted face Erin was giving her brother had his reaction and involvement. Funny. Give his kids this much – they were entertaining.

"Didn't know 'Chicago' could've been a name option for any of you three," he said. Just to get Erin's goat. And it did.

"It was," she contended. "And is. Just ask Kanye West."

"There's a real authority on name-giving and parenting," Jay muttered.

Erin looked at him. "Don't act like Keeping Up with the Kardashians wasn't on the PVR."

"That was Will," he directed at her pointedly.

"Right …"

"It's so stupid and so gross," E provided. "Like seriously, you really want to make one of them like have to know that like their whole life?" He gagged.

Erin pushed at his shoulder. "I think someone is trying to make sure he doesn't get his Easter gift."

Clearly she was done with that conversation. And likely best. Picking names for your kids wasn't exactly the fun-and-games that people wanted to make it out to be. One of many ways to land you in a heated argument – and test your relationship – before the kids even got there. But good dry run for all the ways kids managed to do that after they arrived.

E flopped a bit more against the counter. "Like I get an Easter gift."

Erin's pressed her foot firmly against the leg of his stool at that. "You know you always get something."

"Yea," E muttered. "Like some dinosaur thing from the dollar store."

"And what would Easter be without a dollar store dinosaur toy?" she teased and then pressed at his stool again.

Magoo rose a bit and held up his arms like it some sort of worship. Being a goof. "And Jesus said, 'let the little dinosaurs come to me.'"

Erin looked at Hank. "There's what your big bucks are paying for," she said.

"'For if these Children of mine are so dumb they don't believe in evolution but think human beings can rise from the dead then I chose the dinosaurs to join me in life ever-lasting,'" E recited.

"Mmm …," Hank grunted at him.

Magoo gave him a grin. Least the kid still had his sense of humor. Such as it was.

"Try a little harder, Eth," Erin said. "That sacrilege isn't going to get you expelled."

Magoo just groaned a bit. "They aren't gonna expel me. Ever. I can say and do what I want."

"Maybe at school," Hank said – because the kid had a point. Good and bad to it. "But you can still go cruisin' at home."

E flopped against the counter at that. Minor sulk. Even though Hank also knew that E had more than learned he was ever cruisin' so much anymore at home. How do you punish a kid who's already going through so much? Not that E needed a whole lot of punishing or grounding. He was a good kid. But still a kid. Still a teen. Still needed some correcting and motivation from time-to-time to keep him on track. As much as he could. Whatever track that was.

Track that morning, though, looked like it might be derailing a little. Despite the show E was putting on, Hank suspected with the shivering sweat he'd found E in when he got in early that morning that the kid had actually had a bit of a fever spike. It'd mean that his nerves would be firing off that morning likely. Likely some neuropathy and muscle pain gnawing at the kid. Could see it in some of his body language. Might have to see about getting a pain killer or some CBD oil into him so he'd be able to physically enjoy the day – even if he was a little stoned.

But Hank went around and gave the stool a bit of a spin to face him out into the living area. "Find your basket."

E squinted up at him. Really squinted. Also hadn't remembered to bring his glasses down with him. Would have to go grab them too while the kid did do his wander. Wouldn't take him long.

"Since when do I get a basket?" he contended.

Hank tugged the stool's back back-and-forth a bit more and gave the kid a bit of a nudge. "Someone getting too big for their breeches?" he put to the kid.

E knew he always got something. Not the fucking ridiculous hauls that he heard some of the kids at school brag about. Not the kind of ridiculous commercialization he did see when he did stop to grab his boy and grandson a small something. But had always gotten him something small. Kept it up. Just like Camille had done. To just keep trying to give him something that looked like a childhood. Even if he was just too fucking grown-up for his own good already.

Eth gave him a little huff but did get himself up and steady. Hank knew too if he skipped out on an Easter of having some kind of sweet and treat – it'd get noticed. Then it'd be the kid busting his balls about not doing anything and sassing back the whole 'thought that counts' line he'd drilled into his kids. Then that E's obsession with traditions would come spilling out. And traditions mattered. Part of having a foundation.

"Going to grab his glasses," Hank muttered at Erin as E staggered into the living space.

"The eggs are for Henry," he heard Erin chastise gently as he went back up the stairs.

"Is it downstairs?" E had groaned back at her. More indication that there was pain and spasticity going on. E had no interest in navigating more stairs than he needed to.

"No," Erin put to him a bit more firmly. "Just look."

Hank could hear the huff at that all the way from the bedroom. But knew when E stopped putting on the show, he'd spot the thing in short order. The trip up might be that he was looking for his actual dino basket. But hadn't dragged that over. Had meant to but had ended up going back-and-forth between the house so much the day before he'd just forgotten. By the time he'd realized – just a few hours ago – when he was putting the stuff out in Erin's little music alcove, hadn't really felt like making another run home to grab it. Even though it'd likely be good practice for back-and-forth when his grandbabies got there and good to have the extra basket around for after Olive got there with H. Something for the kiddos to throw the eggs into. But a bowl would work just fine.

What was getting used right now, though, might not be looking like much of a basket to E. Getting him his specs might help him make out what he was looking at in the room better. Right now he might just be scanning right by the blur of it and not even realize he was looking right at it.

E'd managed to spot it, though, as Hank was coming back down the stairs. "No way," he heard the kid cry out and took a couple quick steps forward as he saw E's hand dart out to grab it.

"Hold up," he said. But wasn't fast enough. And Erin's pregnant waddle hadn't been either. "Easter stuff is in it …" he muttered as the few treats got dumped to the floor as E flipped the hat off the shelf. Bear's nose immediately getting shoved into the mess, searching for something more he could chomp and slobber on.

Hank sighed a little and E gave him an apologetic look. But Hank just looped the specs over his ears. His own fault anyway. Should've seen that one coming. Guess he was losing his touch at seeing shit coming at him even when it was right in his face. Too long on the job. In life. Get blind to it all some times. Or too fucking complacent. Self-assured. Or just distracted.

"It's alright," he assured and bent to pick them up for the kid. Batted the mutt's muzzle out of the way. Didn't need him getting into any of it either.

E gazed at the cap as he did and then showed it to his sister as she got over and Hank handed off the few things to here. "It's the '84 Cubs hat. Like the Stranger Things one," he said. There was a smile in his voice. Been a while since Hank had heard that. And it'd pretty much been the point. Normally would've held onto that until E's birthday. But he could tell the kid needed a little something right now. Anything. Just to lift him up a bit. To hopefully make the kid remember that feeling and keep grasping at it.

Erin made a bit of a 'wow' noise. Clearly not as excited as him. And E glanced back into the alcove. Face lit up a bit again and he grabbed.

"Bash-ball?" he looked at Hank wide-eyed. "Regulation?"

Hank just grunted but reached to take it out of his kid hand that was already fumbling around with trying to pop the plastic off the top to get a real grip on the bat and balls.

"Go sit," he told Magoo and nodded into the living space. Didn't need him dumping everything all over the floor or falling all over himself some more.

Kid listened and him and Erin got the stuff set in front of him. Bear's nose right up on the coffee table giving it some more sniffs too. Smelled the treats. Not that he'd be getting any of them. But wouldn't stop the dog from taking a look and begging anyway.

"Jay …," she called back into the kitchen and gave her own little nod at a cupboard. Saw the guy pop it open and then come to join them, setting a couple things in front of E too.

E was already into it all though. Had shot him another big smile at the pretty much mandatory not-chocolate – or much of anything – candy bar that cost so much he only ended up with the thing at Christmas and Easter these days. Same with the no-sugar or soy or gluten or chemical sour gummy worms. And the bag of gum. Real treats and so rare, Hank knew the kid looked forward to them. Appreciated them more than most kids ever would candy.

"Thank you …," E said real quiet.

Hank just grunted at him. Didn't need the thanks. But appreciated hearing it sometimes.

E was gazing at the Hot Wheel in there. "You found the Easter paint job ones?" he asked all surprised. "They were supposed to be hard to find."

Hank grunted again. "Just at CVS."

"Really?" E asked even more surprised. He squinted at it pulling it up to his face to get a better look. "I feel maybe I shouldn't be takin' it out."

Hank shrugged. "Not going to do much in the packaging."

E shot him a smile like that was all the permission he needed to hear and ripped it off. He gave it a slow examination.

"Chevy?" he asked and handed it off.

"Mmm …," Hank acknowledged and gave it a bit of his own examination. Wasn't a fan of the paint job on it – the light metallic green and pastel-y orange and yellows. But whatever. Knew E had been getting twitchy about the "collector" Easter editions. Just like his kid did about anything that could be collected and catalogued. And diecasts were sure a never-ending pool of that. But didn't much care at this point. It'd taken nearly fifteen years but his boy had gotten to a place where there was a lot more he could relate to him about and talk to him about. Sure could sit down and have a conversation with him about cars a whole lot easier than he could endure another fucking motor at him about prehistoric beasts. So he'd take it – even if it meant Hot Wheels and E's OCD was part of the package. "'63," he provided.

"Did you get Henry one?" he asked.

Hank just grunted.

"Which one?"

"Have to wait and see," Hank said. But knew E wouldn't be that interested in what H got. Beyond wanting to know the issue number and frequency of the model. But H didn't care if it was an actual car. H would rather something that looked like some sort of beast or imaginary machinery equipment. And in the end all that mattered was that it had four wheels and he could make "vrooming" noises.

E picked up the pack of Opening Day cards. Had been nice to actually have a real excuse to pick up that for the kid.

"I think I'll wait," he said of opening them, though. "So I can sort them when I get home."

Hank just grunted some acknowledgement and shrugged. They'd see how that played out. But he just lifted his ass off the couch and retrieved his wallet, pulling out enough bills to hand him double allowance and a bit. Thirty bucks. Another tradition for his Spring Break. Kid deserved it, though. All he went through and dealt with. And knew that thirty bucks would only go so far in entertaining him over the Break. But maybe cover off a bit. Encourage him to leave the house a bit – even when he was hurting or down.

"Take Eva out for a malt shake or something," he told his son, who gave him a small groan – had already been told before 'no one does that anymore, Dad' - but happily accepted the cash anyway. But Hank just pulled him close a pressed a kiss into his fine hair. "Keep being a gentleman and a scholar, Kiddo."

Got another groan but got him to meet his eyes too. "Thanks, Dad …"

He grunted and reached as E's hands went back to trying to get the plastic off the bash-ball set. "Think your sister and Jay got you something."

The dog was looking real interested in E getting the plastic off the set too. Likely so he could get his teeth sunk into the new balls. But would prefer to let his boy take the gear for a bit of a ride and give the bat a few swings before the mutt started staking claim on it. Though, maybe if Bear decided bash-ball was a great substitute for fetch, it'd be a good way to keep growing E's interest in giving this baseball alternative a try and getting out on the field and outside the house and socializing with other kids and pushing his body and muscles and this functional electrical stimulation brace a bit. Really hoped on that. Maybe had reason to be with how the kid had lit up on seeing he'd actually made the purchase for the gear. Get him started and moving forward while his interest was piqued.

E gave Erin a look. "Dinosaurs?" he said. The last Easter necessity in E's paradigms for the holidays. The little routines and traditions that Camille had started and Erin had continued and maybe Hank had grown and adapted a bit as his boy grew-up. Candy, outdoor toy, diecast, pack of cards. Keep it simple. Keep expectations manageable and realistic. That was one of the tricks to tricking to make parenting something that resembled manageable on its own too. Some days.

"Why would I ever get you dinosaurs?" she said but reached and shook out a shirt for him. He looked at it and squinted but then his eyes lit up again and he laughed reaching out for it. Had all the names of the Jurassic Park dinos listed down it: Triceratops & Dilophosaurus & Brachiosaurus & Stegosaurus & Velociraptor & T-Rex. "Kept seeing that in the window of a store I have to walk—"

"Waddle," Ethan said and Erin reached out to chuff at his shoulder real good, giving him a faux-insulted look.

"And I thought you definitely needed to get it broken in before the next movie comes out."

E nodded and worked at struggling to get his sleep shirt off to replace it with the next acquisition. Hank cast a bit of a look at Erin and Jay as the shirt came off and E's near translucent skin and each-and-every defined ribs became visible. He'd already told Erin that if she felt up to it when she was home, he'd appreciate her doing a bit of a clothing run with Magoo. The muscle atrophy and the nausea – the weight was just coming off him. His clothes just hung and made him look smaller and sicker than he was. So while most parents were trying to keep up with the growth spurts, weight gain and muscle growth of their teen-aged boys – Hank was having to downgrade back into the boy's section into seemingly smaller and smaller sizes.

The new shirt got quickly pulled over his head. Hank had seen it'd been a men's x-small that Erin had picked up. Still was too big for Magoo.

"They likely have it out for the twenty-fifth anniversary," Ethan said as he got it on. "Since it's the Jurassic Park logo and not the World. But like all the new movie and anniversary stuff is supposed to be coming out in like … three weeks. The eighteenth."

"Oh …," Erin mouthed at him. "The eighteenth?" And she pushed a little blind bag at him. He stared at it a bit and then looked at her as he seemed to realize it said "Jurassic World" on them. He grabbed it immediately.

"Where'd you get this?" he demanded. "How'd you get this?"

Erin smiled and shrugged. "I know people, Ethan."

He snorted at her response but fumbled around trying to get his hands to co-operate to get the top ripped off.

"Here," Jay said and reached out.

E gave it to him but was just bouncing. "This is sweet …," he muttered under his breath and looked at Erin. "Just one?"

"Don't get greedy on me," she said and raised an eyebrow. But again, Hank wouldn't be surprised if E helped Henry out with the egg hunt that there might be one or two more for the kiddos to find.

Jay handed the open packaging back and E tipped it into his hand. He gazed at it the little plastic toy. And gazed some – tested the little articulated features. Bigger and nicer than the last branded Jurassic World blind bags that had been out a couple years ago.

"Baryonyx," he muttered. "I don't have a baryonyx anything." He fiddled with the packaging and pulled out a sheet that listed the collectibles. "Twenty-eight," he mumbled. "Carnotaurus. I want that one. And Blue."

That was an under-estimate. If there was twenty-eight, E would want all twenty-eight. Thankfully that was just blind bags. Only cost about as much as a pack of Topps at a time. But E had been talking about the new movie and all the connected paraphernalia for months. And fucking months. Would make birthday shopping easy. Not that the kid needed more dinosaurs. But kids liked what they liked. Harder part would be keeping E's twitchiness over the summer in line or he'd be dumping a whole lot of dough on his ball cards, diecasts and dinos in trying to complete his various collections. Better things to be spending money on. But there were also worse.

"You're welcome," Erin said more pointedly.

But he looked at her and gave her a wide smile – managing to pull himself up and flop against her into a hug. "Thank you," he said.

She smiled at the intrusion into her space but then reached between them and rested her hand on her belly a bit. E must've felt it too because his hand went down and he smiled bigger.

"Happy Easter Tim and I hope not Brooklyn," he teased.

Erin gave him a little shove at that. Enough that he staggered a bit but Jay reached and steadied him.

"Hello …," came called from downstairs as the door popped open. And there went Bear like a shot. Always had to be checking things out. Always shoving his nose right in your crotch as soon as anyone came in the door. Moving at double-time if he caught a whiff that you had food on you – and hopefully Olive did.

"'Allo," got slurred even louder from down there. "'App Eater!"

Hank smiled and got up from the couch. Could hear Olive already chastising Bear about not spilling hot coffee all over them and calling at Henry about taking off his boots and coat. But could also tell neither the dog nor his grandson was listening. Never did too well. Just like his father. And aunt. And uncle. Was stomping up the stairs.

"Who's making all that noise?" Hank greeted as he looked down to see H getting his grubby puppy paws all over the wall as he navigated his way up.

"It 'Enry," he said.

"Oooh …," he said and smiled at the kid. Had another one of Olive's educational-time-filler crafts on his head. A paper plate cut out and folded up like rabbit ears. Then scribbled all over with crayons in his grandson's idea of decorating. "I figured it was the Easter Bunny."

He squatted down and held his arms open to get a hug. H flopped against him and placed a sloppy kiss nearly right on his lips.

"What's this?" Hank teased and tilted the ringed hat up and down on his head. Got it sitting right as it could for him after his flop had made it sit all cockeyed.

"My Eater ban-it," H said.

"Mmm …," Hank smiled at that.

H pulled away from Hank urgently and pulled the hat off his head holding it at him. "Put on Eater ban-it," he said and scrunched it right on his head.

Hank reached and adjusted it a bit. Little small to be sitting on his head. "I got all my frills upon it?" he put to H.

The kid just nodded hard.

"Mmm …," he acknowledged. "Guess I'll be the grandest fellow at the Easter parade."

H just whapped him against the chest. No appreciation for the reference.

"Papa!" he shrieked. "Eater Bunny played a tool."

"He played a tool?" he asked and looked down the stairs at Olive who was still loitered near the door – shoes and jacket still on. Wasn't sure if his grandson was calling him a tool. But that would likely be about right while he was wearing this thing.

"A fool," she clarified. "A joke."

"Oh …," Hank allowed, looking back to his grandkid. "Because it's April Fool's?"

"Mhes!" Henry cried.

"Is Jay there?" Olive called up. "Can I borrow him for a second?"

Hank grunted and looked back into the living space. "Jay …," he allowed but then set his eyes back on his little man as Erin's man headed down to see what was hopping. Though, did notice that Jay stopped right in front of the two of them with his phone out and waited until he glanced up in the damn rabbit ears to snap a photo. He just smacked at that. Fucking guy just gave him a shit-eating grin. The sort of shit that he knew he could only get away with then and there on days like this. But should know maybe they worked real hard at keeping the personal and professional and work and family separated – but didn't mean in the next couple days when something popped up at work that had a real dipshit feel to it, it wouldn't be Halstead he'd be calling on to do it. But the guy knew that too.

"What kind of trick did that rascally rabbit play on you?" he put to his grandson. Ignored Jay. Because also knew that wouldn't be too long before he had a whole lot of opportunities to document embarrassing shit you did for your kiddos too. Jay'd see. Sure there were Easter Bonnets and reindeer antlers and princess tiaras and super hero masks and paleontologist hats in his future too. But you did it. Because it was your kids. And that eliminated the pride or dignity aspect of a whole lot of it. No embracement. And Hank really hoped he was there to see it. Out of Jay and out of Erin. And getting to do it all over again for his grandkids too.

"Papa! He take me assk-it!"

"He took your basket?" Hank rasped with some put on horror for the kiddo. Could see at that point that Olive had recruited Jay to grab the thing out of her car and hide it somewhere down there while they kept H distracted. So Hank scooped him up.

"Bunny leave egg. Wit let-her. Assk-it here, Papa! He play-in tick!"

"Silly Rabbit," Hank agreed.

He took H into the living space so he could see his aunt and uncle. Unfortunately so E and Erin could see him. Erin barely even tried to restrain her grin.

"That hat," she said. "Definitely should ban it."

Gave her a smack too as E laughed, slouching back into the couch as he did.

He set H down. He was doing really good to push and squirm out of his arms anyway.

"Egg! Egg!" he shrieked and was diving for one he'd spotted before Hank even had his feet fully planted on the ground. He picked it up and shook, shook, shook it and then gripped at it with his chubby fingers to work at getting it open.

"Need Popa's help?" Hank asked.

But H just shook it more and took it over to Erin, handing it off to her and patting at her belly before flopping in another fully sloppy kiss against it.

"Cuz-sins!" he declared and smacked at her again.

Erin reached and stilled his hand. "Gentle," she said. "They can feel that."

H didn't like that too much and turned to look at E's little treasure trove on the table, grabbing for the Hot Wheel.

"Hey, hey," Magoo said, suddenly pulling himself upright to stop it. "That's my basket. Not yours."

"Bunny tool My-Eww too. Assk-it leave here."

"Yea, I regularly get my ass kicked," E said and handed him the half of the egg that Erin had opened for him, revealing his own Hot Wheel in there, which he happily claimed and started driving through Ethan's stuff, causing him to work at moving it to the couch instead. Make way. Had to with H. Just like his dad. Always on a complete path of destruction. "Just usually not here."

Olive appeared up at the top of the stairs – Bear bursting up around her feet and pushing right by. Likely nearly knocking her over. Had a tray off coffees in one hand and a pink box in the other. Apparently it'd been a successful donut run. If these could be called donuts. Knew Olive and E were all about them. But Hank still wasn't sure anything that was gluten-free, vegan and paleo constituted a donut to him. But at least it was something the whole family could share as a treat.

"Hi," Olive greeted.

He grunted. "Happy Easter," he allowed and took the coffee from her – save her from spilling it on herself since she had a dog and a toddler underfoot. Though, she'd become really good at navigating that never-ending daily obstacle course.

But might've been him who needed to worry about the obstacle course. H was over and pulling at his pant leg.

"Papa! Papa! We get Papa ol'papa fashion." And he was reaching up at his mom – clearly wanting what was likely his second-breakfast and very likely his only sweet Easter treat right then and there.

But Olive held open the box to him and let him take it. "Ol'papa talk-t," his little guy said and grabbed at the old fashioned chocolate right away.

Olive just smiled and offered the box his way. "Guess I'm supposed to take the old fashioned," he said and reached for the plain buttermilk.

"Take whatever you like," Olive said.

But Hank only grunted and shook his head. He could tell just by looking in there she'd done her best to get people's favorites. And she'd done good. Cinnamon 'sugar' for E. Apple fritter for Jay. Blueberry jammer for Erin. And a vanilla bean glaze for her. Had done really good at getting their whole family captured right there in a box.

Now it was just left to them working at getting out of it. For Hank to work at getting them out of it. And maybe – he was going to have to hope – it was because he was old-fashioned, an old dog, old guard of the CPD that maybe he could. So he could keep having – seeing, bearing witness to and being a part of – fucking stupid, simple mornings like this.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **Watched last night's ep. Liked it. Excited to riff off of it. Do a recast or two off of it. Be posted in Hereafter. Still have several episodes I want to go back and do a recast/deleted scene in this AU for that series. Mostly more recent episodes.**

 **And, yea … not surprised at Camille being a teacher at all. Had played with originally making her more of a professor-type than a research-type in this AU. But think a teacher makes a lot of sense for what bits we've had revealed about her on the show.**

 **And, been asked in some DM and comments if I've picked the names for the twins and/or if I'm going to write the twins birth or after they are born, etc. Yes, the names are pretty much picked at this point or at least very narrowed down. No, I don't really think I'll be putting it up for a vote or feedback or anything like that. Yes, I intend to at least write around the birth — not necessarily the labor/delivery. And, I don't know if/when or how much I'll right about after the twins are born. Sort of will have to see how I feel about the characters, the show, the AU and FF in general by then. And also just what's going on in my own life and writing in terms of time, energy, motivation, ideas and desire.**

 **Honestly, the audience and readership for CPD FF has really gone down. Having readers isn't the sole reason I like it. Yes, I am invested in the characters and their arcs as depicted in this AU too and want to give them some closure. But having readers certainly does help. Unfortunately, as I'm sure many of you who still read and/or still follow the show — a lot of people stopped reading the FF after Bush left the show too. So that means less people taking the time to read and even fewer taking the time to comment.**

 **I, personally, am still watching the show. And, as many of you know who've followed my stories for a long time, I feel my AU are more "Hank's stories" than Erin's despite her (and her relationship with Jay) playing a big role. So it doesn't really impact me. I actually have enjoyed the season in a lot of ways (even though there are some things I miss about the old formula). But I do like the cases they've had for the most part. And I do like that there is a season serialization of a story related to Hank. There's things about the show that I really liked in the first season that have returned. And things that annoyed me a lot — particularly in S3 and S4 — that have toned down a lot.**

 **So it really just depends. There's still stuff I want to do with this particular story and with Hereafter. But there's stuff I still want to do with stories in the AU from even before that. Basically I'll just pick at it as I feel like , when I feel like, in the way I feel like. And we'll see what happens.**

 **That said, this particular story was supposed to be more dialogue driven and lighter after how heavy Onward Thankfully got. I know some chapters here have gotten a bit heavier and darker. That's partly in reaction to what's happening on the series, which I think is interesting to explore and think about in relation to this AU and the situation the characters are in in this point of the story. But, I really do still intend to have some lighter, funnier, happier chapters in here that maybe are a little fluffy and likely with more dialogue, less introspection and much shorter than usual.**

 **Thanks to those who do read still. And bigger thanks to the handful of you who do take the time to comment, review, DM, etc. The feedback helps — not just with motivation. But with understanding what is and isn't working for at least some of you.**


	9. What You Get

**Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted), Hereafter, and Onward Thankfully. This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

Hank pulled his eyes away from his fixated stare on Erin and Magoo as Jay arranged himself on the opposite side of the picnic table from him. He allowed the guy a little grunt. Some acknowledgement and let his eyes drift over to where he'd last seen the guy – over with his daughter-in-law and grandson.

Jay reached and placed a few plastic eggs in the middle of the table. "Henry's got a better eye than the kids on the hunt," he said.

Hank allowed a little snort at that. "Think the three of you gave him a good practice run there this morning," he said.

They had. Erin and Olive and Jay had done up a more than nice little egg hunt for his grandson in the townhouse. Spoiled him a little. But that was about par for the course. Guilt about the things you couldn't fix usually sent you trying to fix them in ways that didn't fix much of anything. But it'd still been some fun to watch the little guy dash around with his bucket in the house spotting the things. Shaking at them like crazy and throwing some minor tantrums when some of them were harder to get popped open than others.

Brought back a lot of memories. Of both of his boys as little guys. The things Camille did for them. To spoil them some and to make days like this just a little bit more special than the day-to-day. To create those memories. Ones that sometimes he thought stuck with you more as parents than ever stuck with the kids. The kids could only ever really remember so much from when they were that age.

Bitter sweet. Days like today. Always sent you thinking a little too much. Reflecting a little too much. Missing her. The past. The family they were or had been. In the good times. Easy to romanticize it anymore. A long time ago. Now. But still … wouldn't have traded it. Those years. Any of them. All the ups and downs. Of life, marriage, parenthood.

He reached and shook at one of the eggs. Gave Jay a bit of a look and then cracked it open.

"Olive wouldn't let him have any of the candy," Jay allowed.

Hank gave a little snort and gave his head a bit of a shake. Eyes a bit of a roll. Couldn't do it in front of Olive. Maybe he shouldn't do it in front of Jay either. Jay had his own ideas about food and nutrition. Knew that. And knew it'd be interesting to see how that ended up rubbing off on Erin and both of their parenting styles after the twins arrived.

Hopefully they didn't go at it quite as full-throttle as Olive had. Girl had gone from only knowing how to use a microwave to full-on granola. Sometimes Hank thought it was a little much.

On a fucking holiday – definitely felt it was a little much. He'd been sure to have a fucking chocolate-covered marshmallow rabbit for his grandson that morning because had known that if he didn't Henry wouldn't be getting much of anything that resembled a sweet. Though, had barely gotten that either. H only got to gnaw off the ears before Olive had taken it away from him. Likely best. Kid was making a bit of a mess – and a mess of everything his sticky fingers and mouth got on in its aftermath. But that was part of the point of it. Once a year thing. Didn't hurt.

Though, Olive didn't feel much the same way. If she had her way he wouldn't have gotten any exposure to sugar until he was about through puberty. Had a whole speil on the horrors of it. And, he'd done enough reading on that shit with Magoo's situation, he hard what she was saying. But he also said, good fucking luck to her in that. Completely eliminating sugar from a North American diet – living in the fucking Midwest – was a pretty much a fool's errand. More so when the body actually needed some sugar to function the way he should be functioning. But she'd really bristled when he'd presented that medically-supported, nutritionist promoted fact to her. So he'd shut up.

Just like he'd kept his hatch trapped that morning when the only edible treats that H was retrieving out of those eggs were Gold Fish crackers, Cheerios and grapes. Fine, enough. Camille had done about the same when the boys were little. But his wife also hadn't been afraid about letting their kids enjoy some jellybeans and chocolate – and ice cream and cake and cookies (that actually looked and tasted like cookies) – on occasion either.

To each their own. Everyone parents differently. For better or worse.

"Chocolate's going to be shit anyway," Hank conceded, but worked at unwrapping the egg he'd retrieved, rolling one of the other plastic things Jay's way. He cracked it open too and worked at picking off the foil as well.

Might as well get the stuff out of sight before both Henry and Magoo were putting up a fuss about not getting the junk. Not that they were missing much. The thing was pretty much just sitting on his tongue like a lump. Not even starting to melt. Likely couldn't even be called chocolate. Likely some sort of "coco-flavored confectionary" or some crap. Likely nut-free and peanut-free and maybe even dairy-free for it to be the candy of choice that they were using for an egg hunt in a city park. Though, Hank doubted any of the events in the park district had had much of a turn-out that year. Too damn cold and too much rain. Not exactly surprising Henry had spotted some cast-offs still rolling in the grass.

"Pretty sure you won out on gift of the season," Jay said with a nod off over his shoulder as he crunched on his egg. Look on his face told Hank that he wasn't exactly thrilled with the taste either. "Tastes like childhood …" he muttered.

Got a thin smile out of Hank and he claimed another one of the chocolate turds too. That about summed it up. Knew for a fact that these brightly colored foil-wrapped eggs had made a lot of appearances in their house over the years. And why the fuck not? Could get about a 100 of them for a couple bucks. Split between three kids and a couple adults – pretty fucking reasonable.

"Your mom or dad?" he asked.

"Mom," Jay said flatly – like it was obvious. Probably was at this point. More than clear that these kiddos weren't likely going to have much of a second grandpa in their lives. No grandmothers either.

Made Hank a little sad. Made him worry a little more. For the if, and when, things went south. About the support network that Erin and Jay and those babies were going to have.

Having family – grandparents – made a real difference. Had really seen that – felt it – while Justin was growing up. Missed it a lot bringing up Magoo. Just felt like another thing that the kid had ripped from his life. Another fucking deficit.

Thought Jay should know that too. See it and feel it. The guy had said enough – and Erin had – that Hank knew he'd had a close relationship with his grandfather. Should mean the kid should know how special that connection can be. Grandfather and grandchild. Hank knew it too. Felt it with Henry. Real different than when it's our own kid. A whole different experience. Was glad he was getting it. Really hoped he'd get to experience it with Erin's kiddos too. For more than a few weeks or few months. That he'd be around to see them through their first year and to watch them grow up.

But if he wasn't – couldn't be – sort of wished he could know there was going to be someone else around for those kids. To help out the family. But didn't seem like that was going to be the way it worked out. Least not right now.

Maybe it'd change after the twins arrived. Maybe Jay or that father of his would swallow their pride some and do what was best for the babies. Jay'd decide he'd want the kids to have a connection to his side of the family – that wasn't just his brother. That Patrick Halstead would figure out that he'd like to meet his grandkids and be a part of their lives.

There was a big part of Hank that wanted to say something about it. Try to nudge it in the right direction with Jay. Another part of him that wanted to get in front of Paddy there and rip into him a bit about the stupidity and selfishness coming out of a grown man and father. But knew that either of those actions would just backfire big-time. Give Jay a whole lot of reasons to be pissed. Give Erin them too. And didn't need that.

Thing was, though, that he had some sort of idea what it was like. He knew fathers and sons. At least his son. He knew fucked up family dynamics. And complications and loss. Of having your mother gone too soon when you were a young man. He'd seen what that had done to his oldest. And he'd seen what his tough-love, hard-ass stance with Justin had done to their relationship.

And Hank knew there were other dynamics going on with Jay Halstead and his father – with his brother – that he wasn't entirely privy too. But had been around the guy enough – and enough had been said – that he'd filled in some of the blanks. Had a pretty decent idea of what some of this fall-out and baggage was stemming from. And it wasn't just fathers-and-sons and it wasn't just losing a mother and spouse. But still made him feel real bad for his grandbabies. Bad him feel bad for Jay and bad for ol'Paddy too.

Because you never know. Never know how long you've got. Not with your sons. Not with your own life and own health. Not with getting to know those grandkids and them getting to know you and being a part of their life.

Hank knew that. And knew that he'd missed out on more than he'd like to admit with Justin because of where their relationship had been at. Because both of them being stubborn and stupid and too fucking prideful. Because of their relationship being what it was. And the kind of man that shaped his oldest into.

He had regrets about that. Especially now. That lost time. When he wasn't getting anymore. Not to repair it and to know his son and the man he'd grown into. But at least he got some solace in knowing he was getting to know his grandson. That he'd managed to repair things enough that he got that. That they both did. Even though that had come with its own ups and downs too. But Justin had been mature enough to recognize his son deserved a grandfather. And maybe he'd been mature enough – had grown enough – to recognize that he wanted his father in his life too. Hank had sure wanted his son too.

Hard road. Fathers and sons. Harder still knowing that Justin – when he was little, sure was his little buddy. His fucking shadow. And that had gotten lost along the way. With change in family dynamics and ever-shifting work priorities and commitments and responsibilities. With puberty and teen-aged pains in the ass hitting. Your little buddy grows up. And if you don't work at making sure your relationship grows and evolves with it. That your parenting does too. Well, you get yourself into a fucking situation. And they'd sure done that.

Figured no matter how you spun it – realities and myths and perspectives of what Jay's childhood had looked like – that had been part of it in his family too. And figured the guy had done his own amount of wondering about fathers and sons too when he had a little boy of his own on the way.

Fathers and sons weren't easy. But neither were fathers and daughters. Either way the relationship has to grow and change as they do. But that's all part of being a parent. Part of any fucking human relationship.

And Hank knew it was possible. Knew because he'd done it with Ethan. He's Mama's Boy had become a Daddy's Boy. He knew it. Had been in denial about it for a while. But he knew anymore that E was his little buddy. His shadow. And he worked real hard to maintain that relationship. To grow and evolve with it. To not make the same mistakes he had with Justin during puberty and through his teens. To try to make sure that if anything happened – when anything happened – he didn't have to be scared about the way his youngest would remember him.

Though, he was scared that Henry was still so young he wouldn't remember him much at all. That Erin's babies wouldn't even register that he'd existed. If this went to shit.

"And these chocolate chickens," Jay muttered after he'd managed to swallow that wax down. "Hens. Sitting in baskets or maybe nests. Every year."

Hank made a little noise and nodded. "That the European showing in you," he said and caught the kid's eyes. "Rabbits are some kind American thing. According to Cami's folks. Always got the boys the damn hens too. Or an egg. Cami too. Don't think I picked up a chocolate rabbit for the kids ever until after she was gone. Probably looking down and thinking I'm committing some kind of sacrilege."

Jay made a small sound of amusement at that as he worked at picking the foil off his last piece of wax candy. "Yea, I actually do think it was my grandfather who added them to the Easter sugar coma."

A small window to say something. "Your brother working today? Or over at your pops' place?"

Jay gave a shrug. "Don't know."

"With him all day yesterday," Hank rasped.

"He had other things he wanted to talk about," Jay mumbled. Got the impression that meant it wasn't him being a pending uncle.

"Going to touch base with your pop sometime today?" Hank pressed.

Another shrug. "Easter isn't really a thing with us."

That was a given. Been made very clear that the Halsteads didn't have much of anything that was 'a thing' at this point in their family life. Wanted to believe that would change after there were little people on the scene again. But also wasn't getting that kind of read on the family situation. The 'things' these kiddos had would be what Jay and Erin established for them. 'Things' that maybe him and Magoo and Olive and H got to contribute to some too over time. But any Halstead 'things' that were in their life would be based on childhood memories and traditions that Hank suspected would be ones established by Jay's mother or grandfather. Not anything that he'd kept up with his brother or father over the years. Because it didn't seem like much had been kept up.

"Might want to touch base," Hank tried. "Let him know the updated latest possible date his grandkids might be getting here."

And he'd gotten a real look at that. Said loud and clear that it wasn't a conversation they'd be having. Hank wasn't even too clear how much of a conversation it was that he was having with Erin.

So Hank just stared at Olive and his grandson for a moment. Olive and H had been over at the park's running track a while. Off in the starting chute.

"Sure Will will let him know," Jay spat out.

Hank just grunted. False start over here.

"Jay, lost time's lost time. When it's gone, it's gone. Can't make up for it. Aren't going to be wanting to regret any more things you can't do anything about when the time comes."

Jay just stared. A real stare down. But he'd said his bit. So let it drop. Went back to biting his tongue about the fucking adult pains in the asses in his life.

Looked at the littlest one – the easiest one – instead.

The way Henry was squatted down and toddling around in there, Hank knew he'd been treating it like a sandbox. Could see that he was working at tossing the gravel into the back of the little cement mixer truck sand toy he'd got for his grandson. Knew that he should pick up something that wasn't junk food with the way Olive was. And been trained that way anyway. Camille. Skip the chocolate. Get some little outdoor toy that got them out the door and spending time together as a family. She had it figured out. Thankfully he'd listened some. Let her do some training up on him as what she expected and wanted out of him as a father and husband. What and how she wanted her family to function.

Besides, the brightly colored sandbox toy just made sense. Add it to H's growing collection of cars and trucks. The kid's fascination with all types of construction vehicles pretty much rivaled E's early – and on-going - fascination with dinosaurs.

Any walk he took with his grandson these days made sure they circled past a construction site. Wasn't too hard with all the fucking condo developments trying to press into their neighborhood. H was more than happy to stand there and stare and babble at him like they were watching animals in the fucking zoo. Probably more happily than he ever did the times he'd taken the boys over to the zoo. Trucks were much better. Apparently. And all bets were fucking off if a crane or cement truck was on-site when they were over there. Usually be a tantrum that required enduring a whole lot of squirming and kicking if you picked him up or strapping the kid in his stroller to drag him away if either of them were there. Let alone if they were actually pouring the cement or lifting some piece of steel. Then you might as well just write off the evening. He'd want to stand there until bedtime and still throw a fit when it was time to get a move-on.

"Keep telling you guys," Hank rasped, "nine times out of ten – that age – five bucks or less at the CVS check-out is going to win out of anything splashy. Not worth the cash."

About the same truth if you ended up with a kid like Magoo. Didn't need to get too fancy ever. Could only ever get too fancy. Easter wasn't the time or place for it. And the financial situation in their household – family – didn't much allow for it anyway. Kid's didn't did that shit anyway. They needed this. There in the park. Family. Support. People caring about them. Better than any piece of plastic crap or techno garbage. Memories. Relationships.

Jay made a little noise and eyed the kid off over his shoulder. "Hafta keep that in mind," he muttered.

Jay started over there too. Looking at his little grandson.

"Camille's trick too," Hank provided for him. "Skip the sugar. Get them outside."

"Smart …," Jay allowed passively.

"Only so smart in Chicago," Hank said and gestured at the frozen ground. Rain and then a drop in temperature. Wasn't making for much of a spring. Yet. The way it was going, wouldn't be surprised if there was still snow on the ground in the city in May.

Jay allowed a small amused sound. But just kept looking at H. All sorts of thoughts were painted all over the guy's face.

Jay was good with his grandson. Good with his son too. Likely better with kids, period, than he gave himself credit for. Didn't take a lot of B.S. from them but showed a good amount of empathy.

Could tell these days, though, when Jay was interacting with H his head was going off to different places. Doing the worry and wonder thing. Normal.

Hank was doing enough of that for him and Erin and those babies too. But he had a lot of confidence in them sorting it out.

Got the sense that Jay worried about the baby aspect of it. Doubted the guy had much in the way of baby experience. But how many guys really did before they were slapped with one of their own. Reality was it was just a period you had to get through. Wasn't too much glamorous or enjoyable about it. Was just a whole lot of work and sleepless nights. But that was something Jay should be used to.

He'd seen Jay with Henry since he was barely walking. Seen a lot more of him with the kid since his first birthday. Since Justin was gone. Since Olive came back to Chicago. And Hank had seen enough to know by the toddler phase, Jay'd be fine. Was real good at having the energy and the focus to run them around good and wear them out. The patience too. Proved that with him putting up with E – and with Erin too. The two of them took all kinds of patience.

And really, by the time those kids were about four – that four to seven – you were in a nice sweet spot with your kids. The seven to ten phase was another good one. Maybe even a bit better. Out of diapers, in school, starting to show all kinds of interests and able to have some real conversations with them and do some more shit with them that almost held your own attention and interest too. But Jay'd be golden at that point. Knew he'd be fine. Even if he didn't.

It was funny because he got the impression that Jay was more worried about being the father to a son. And Erin – got the sense with her it was about being the mother to a girl.

His girl had right out said to him that she didn't know anything about girls. Fucking laughable. But it was more a conversation about "what if she's a girlie girl?" All these what ifs. What if she's interested in make-up or fashion or ballet or Barbie or playing princess?

And, yeah, what if. What ifs that made Hank smile a bit. Because he sure as fuck didn't know anything about make-up or princesses. He knew his wife been about was much of a tomboy as they could come even on the days she resigned to putting on a skirt and knee socks. Knew his girl too had done her best to be rough and tumble. The tough girl that wasn't going to take shit from anyone. But Camille, Erin – they'd both been girls through and through. They'd been a bit of a pair – even when they were locking horns and bashing skulls with each other. Process where they'd likely both knocked some sense into each other in different ways. A whole lot of learning. But that's what family was anyway. A learning process. A long and never-ending one. Compromise and sacrifice and tolerance. Day in and day out.

Two of them had needed each other, though. Cami had needed a girl in the house. They all did. Erin was the little girl – the big, moody, challenging teen-aged girl – they'd been waiting for in their family for years. Proved that over and over. And Hank knew this little girl her and Jay were bringing into the family would be the estrogen they needed in the family now too. It'd been missing with Camille gone. Maybe this little one would help balance things out a bit. Didn't doubt that it'd likely bring back a whole lot of thoughts and memories about Camille too. But also thought that even in her absence, it'd make them all feel her there a little more. Even if he already knew it was going to make them all miss her a whole lot more for a while – and one certain days and times and moments in these two little kiddos lives.

But with all that, Hank thought the thought of there being a little girl who actually wanted Popa to putter on a doll house for her or to sit down and play fucking tea party with her Teddy Bears – that didn't seem too bad to him. It sounded pretty good. Even if she was a girlie-girl so unlike his wife or his daughter – it all sounded pretty good to him.

But maybe it was because he'd been there. Just not with a little girl just yet. But he knew what Erin was saying. And he'd said as much to her.

The reality was that you don't know what you're going to get with your kids. You never do. You never can. And as fucking scary as that is – it's part of the joy of it. That you have to let yourself enjoy it. This bit-by-bit slow process of getting to know and learning about this little person – that you created. That you can help mould and teach. But the cast is set. You can only change them so much. They are who they are. And you're just along for the ride in helping them discover that and letting yourself discover and accept it too.

So if you have a little girl who wants to wear tutus and tiaras – you buy her the fucking tutus and tiaras. She wants to do ballet – you find her lessons you can afford. Just like he'd had to lay on the front room floor playing dinosaurs with Magoo and learning all the things fucking names and times they'd roams the Earth. Like he'd had to throw endless spirals on a football for Justin and be on his ass constantly about homework that the kid never felt like he had to do because even if he didn't apply himself he still brought home fucking As on every test despite failing to hand in almost every fucking assignment in any kind of timely manner. And like he'd had to endure Erin and her music – blaring all the time and the begging (and then sneaking out) to endless fucking shows and her bringing home fucking treasures she found out at the curb and in side alleys – only for it shift into these fucking markets and flea fairs and antique shops and white elephant sales that Camille introduced her too and pretty much pushed her into the realm of becoming some sort of hoarder of some of the strangest and ugliest shit he'd seen in his life.

But he loved them all anyway. Even though none of that was particularly his cup of tea. But he'd still learned. He'd still tolerated. And he still parented. And he couldn't imagine his kids being anyone but the people they were. It was the way they were supposed to be. And you were just along for the ride.

So when you aren't catering to their interests and talents – you just have to make sure they see you in the vehicle too. And they do. Go through periods they forget. But you're there. And you need to find the time and the space to share your interests and talents with them too. And maybe some of them they'll pick up. The fishing or the books or the movies or the old records or tools in the shed and the coffee and breakfast spots and Saturdays in bleachers on sporting fields and at arenas cheering on their family – and their family team – becomes a part of them too. And the parts that don't - some of them will just become childhood memories and family traditions. But that's not bad or wrong too.

Little people – your kids – it's the same as any human being. You've got to get to know them. It doesn't happen overnight. There might not be a fucking instantaneous connection just because you share genes with them. But he could tell that was one of Erin's big fears too. That she wasn't going to feel a connection. The way she thought she was supposed to.

But he'd told her that was bullshit too. The fact she was even thinking like that showed she was already forming a connection. And it'd grow and change more after she actually had those babies there to have and to hold. When she had to start taking care of them living and breathing in that world. And she'd be fine. There'd be a connection – and it didn't matter the genes were part of it.

Genes only played so much of a role. It's time and care and love and shared history and experiences. That was why she had a connection with her brothers. That's why he had a connection with her. Her and Camille too. They were family. And it grew over time and years and experiences they'd all gone through together.

She didn't need to be worrying about genetics. It was on the list of things you can't do anything about. Not your own. And, she'd probably picked decent enough genetics in Jay to go and procreate with. At least they'd likely be decent looking human beings. As cute as any newborn baby ever really is. But hopefully they'd grow into their looks. Erin was a cute enough little girl. Figured she should worry more about ending up with pale, Irish, gingers than whatever genes it was she fretted about Bunny having bestowed on her. And the father unknown. Couldn't do anything about that. Could've avoided having red-haired little monsters exerting control over her for the rest of her life. But she'd made her choices there too.

And for all her fears and apprehensions about being a parent – being a mother – he knew she'd be fine too. He remembered her with Magoo when he was a baby. He'd watched her with him as he'd grown up. She knew how to take care of a child. She knew how to mother. She understood the sacrifices that came along with it. She could do this.

And so could Jay. Because the biggest part of being a parent – being a spouse, the head of a family, a family man – was that you provided for them and you protected them. Jay had proven – he had a life and employment history that supported it – that he knew how to do both. Despite his failings. They all had failings. But you just kept fucking at it.

Provide and protect. That was what Hank was still trying to do now. For his kids. For his grandkids. To set it all up as best as he could – so they were provided for and protected even if … when … things went sideways.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **This chapter was also getting too long so splitting it. Continuation will still be a Hank POV. It will be more dialogue based.**

 **Just as a notification, I posted a chapter in Hereafter that's relevant to this storyline in the pregnancy and what's going on in Hank's work life. It's called Saved. I didn't really want to cross-post. But the readership on it is pretty low and I know some of you have let me know directly you aren't reading Hereafter since it's "based" on S05 (and it really isn't in the way that I think some of you are thinking. It's very much still rooted in this AU and you really don't need to be watching or caring about the season to take anything out of it I don't think. Any information you need to know from the episode is likely there and as long as you have a general idea of what's happening in the season — in relation to Woods and the body being found, which you likely do from reading these stories). But it's fairly important to this AU and the way it's going. So I might end up cross-posting that particular chapter. But for now I'm just letting you know it's there. It's set a little a head of where this story would be right now. Likely a couple weeks.**

 **Thanks for your readership, reviews and feedback.**


	10. Be There

**Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted), Hereafter, and Onward Thankfully. This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

"He's over there motoring about getting it into the sandbox at your place …," Jay muttered, still staring over at Hank's grandson.

Hank grunted. Monkey-see, monkey-do. Little H had been spending maybe a bit too much time with Magoo. Apparently never knowing when to shut up was a bit of a genetic trait. Or a learned habit. Not sure which. But H sure was a babbler.

"Be waiting a while with the way the weather's going this year," he mumbled.

Wanting to get in the sandbox was a bit of a thing too. More too much like Magoo going on there. Thought E would still spend his life in a sandbox. Or at least outside and dirty. If he could. He wanted to. Paleontologist or geologist or something through and through. Maybe that was a lot of Camille showing through too. In Magoo. In Henry. Little reminders. Knew she'd be happy to spend every spare minute she could get digging in the sandbox in her grandkids. Working at growing that science-minded mind of Magoo's too. Finding a way for it to work for the kid.

As it was, H was just having to settle with the mutt, though. For now. Bear had decided keeping H and Olive company was a whole lot more interesting than anything Erin and E were up to right now. Digging at the gravel in the track for Henry. Getting him a nice little pile all kicked up to dump into the cement truck. Thing was going to be rattling with dirt and stones and debris for the rest of the summer. If it ever turned to summer. Might have to get the boys a chisel for the sandbox at this rate.

Jay made a sound and looked at him scrubbing his face a bit. Kid hadn't shaved that morning. Though, kid came into work looking like that most mornings anymore. Likely just get worse after the babies arrived. Imagined there'd likely be a beard in the off-ing for at least the first three to six months of it. So might as well get used to looking at it.

Though, Hank's perspective on it was that all the young guys anymore seemed to think doing U.C. and surveillance work gave them permission to look like they'd spent a good part of their lives sleeping on park benches like the one Erin and Magoo were over on now.

"They tiring out?" Jay asked.

"Mmm …," Hank allowed. "Both of them needed the can. Guess getting there and back necessitated a break."

Jay allowed a bit of an amused sound at that and stared at his very pregnant … fiancée, girlfriend, partner. Hank didn't know. He'd stopped asking. There was enough other shit on the go to that'd be rocking the boat to bother adding that to the list. Did just enough poking and probing that they didn't forget his opinion on the matter but didn't brow beat them about it. Didn't need that battle or conflict.

Jay reached and bounced the bat some. Watched it light-up. "Looked like he was getting some real pop out of this."

Hank grunted. "Good curve on his pitches too," he said.

Jay pulled the other end of the back out of his hand and weighed it in his – choking up on it good. "A lot lighter than a regular bat."

"Supposed to be," Hank said.

He watched Halstead play with the settings on the bat. The different lights in different sequences. Different colors. The marked out sweet spot and the real bright barrel of it.

"Amazing what they come up with for some of this stuff," Jay muttered.

Hank grunted. It was.. "Lucky. Got real lucky with him, being here. RIC. Opportunities …"

It was a truth. Couldn't imagine every living a life anywhere that wasn't Chicago but really recognized these days with Magoo how lucky they were. Lots of research and lots of R&R and investment in new technologies. Resources. And not just on the medical-front. One living kids — adults — opportunities to have quality of life despite their disability. To be able to participate in a whole lot of different things same as anyone else.

And the investment and effort they put there showed. In sports, at least. Whole lot of athletes and national-level teams coming out of the programming at RIC and this new AbilityLab thing they had going on.

Added layer of ways to just keep trying to give Magoo a life. Kind of life he deserved. A childhood and opportunities for if they got him to adulthood. Coping mechanisms and support network. Not having to feel limited. Even though there were a whole lot of challenges. Every fucking day anymore.

Really felt like each day was becoming more and more of a battle with him on a whole lot of levels. But you fought for your kids. For them even more than you fought with them.

Jay nodded and set the bat back down on the tabletop. Reached for the weirdly geometric ball instead. Lots of places to grip. Ways to adjust the air-flow. Bright yellow. And lit up like the bat too.

Whole set-up catered to all kinds of different sensory and muscle dexterity and capacity. Trying to make the modified sport accessible. Even if it was basically just a glorified version of Wiffle Ball. At least this bash-ball thing would let his kid have a bat in his hands that summer.

"He going to join the rec league?" Jay asked.

"Think so," Hank said. "Making noise about it."

Jay nodded and worked the ball around in his palm. Likely trying to figure out how to hold it. But there were some tricks to it. But Hank thought that was likely part of the fun. Seemed to be what was keeping E interested. Kid liked things like that.

Really hoped E did. He needed this. Needed something. Even though every something Hank managed to get lined up for him — every something he managed to get E to agree to and buy into — it was all a compromise. It wasn't what he wanted. But it'd have to do. Still better off than a whole lot of kids in a whole lot of circumstances even in just their city. But avoided preaching that to E. Ethan knew. And he'd heard it all before. Had lots of reminders around him that it could be worse.

But sometimes you just wanted fucking more for your kids. Wished you could do. Fix things. Clean up the messes you'd made.

"How many on a team?" Jay asked.

"Four," Hank allowed. "Pretty near indoor, intramural stick ball rules."

It got another little nod. "They just running it as a drop-in then?"

He grunted and shook his head. "Depends on how many they get signed up. Get enough interest, same as all their stuff — tourneys, away games. Bash-ball World Series."

Jay made an amused noise at that. "They splitting it up for kids and adults or going all-ages?"

"Same. Depends on the interest."

Jay nodded. "Sounds fun."

Hank eyed him. Jay hadn't done too hot about being there for Magoo in the athlete interests that year. Not that E was up to any of it but had expressed interest in kayaking and the rock-climbing again. But not bites for Halstead. Hank hadn't pushed it. Could see the guy was a shit-show in the summer and fall. And E was a whole lot of didn't know from one day to the next how'd he be doing.

"Going to have your hands full soon," Hank said. Because he didn't want Jay floating any offers he couldn't keep. Ones that would make things more complicated for all of them in a lot of ways. Easier to just keep things simple right now.

Only needed eight people to sign up for the kids to at least have a biweekly scrimmage. Wouldn't exactly be enough for E to get his baseball fix. But it'd have to be. Another compromise.

"Wish the weather would figure out what it's doing so we could do the shower out here," Jay said and twisted at the bash-ball again. "This could be fun."

Hank grunted. "April's always touch-and-go. Never know what you're going to get."

Jay nodded but gestured over past where Erin and E were slumped on the bench — to the community center. "They've got a gym. I think you can book it. It'd be a lot cheaper than his batting cages idea."

Hank scrubbed at his face and stared at him. "Don't worry about that."

Jay looked at him. "I just can't really reconcile paying several hundred bucks to host this thing to then ask everyone for handouts like we can't afford the kids in the first place."

Hank shrugged. "Just how these things work."

Jay made this frustrated noise and shook his head.

"Look, Jay, you get a couple car seats or that fucking stroller or some Jolly Jumpers out of this and you'll have more than broken even," Hank said. "Me and Trudy have got you covered on the hosting costs. Don't worry about it. Don't get Erin worked up about it."

He kept fidgeting with the bat. "Got her to start the registry," Jay said. "The other day."

Hank grunted. He'd seen it. Wasn't too much on it. But it was a start. The necessities. But a lot of the necessities were the big ticket items. Ones that they hadn't gotten sorted yet. The two of them had done pretty good at getting the nursery organized. Looked good. Mish-mash of old and new that was pretty much Erin. And also pretty reflective of cop salaries and getting it to stretch out when there was two babies on the way.

Hank figured — hoped — he would be able to pass around the hat enough that the people in Jay and Erin's lives would be able to tick-off at least one of the bigger ticket items for them. He'd likely end up buying the other for them. Car seats or stroller. And then sort of hoped that enough of the team — Erin's family — would tuck their dicks in enough for a few hours that they'd come out to the fucking thing and honor her diaper request. Was practical and easy enough. Though, sort of hoped some of the women in her life would get her some of the cutesy shit as much as she was putting up protests about it. Either way the kids needed clothes and some rattles and shit. Erin having to endure it was part of the hosting fee. Though, thought most of the women in her life did the cutesy thing about as much as she did. All that their moments. But a lot of tough cookies in the group. Some a bit more girlie than others. So it'd probably work out.

"Eth seems like he might actually be able to get up to bat if he gets Erin's buy-in on this," Jay muttered and then met his eyes. "Seems to be doing decent this weekend."

Hank shrugged. He wouldn't exactly call it decent. He'd say it was about the usual. But supposed that was decent anymore. Wished it was better.

"Looks like the electrical stim device is helping?" Jay tried.

Hank grunted at that and scrubbed a bit at his own face. Really wasn't sure he'd say that. But the docs had said to give E a couple weeks to get used to it. A week to even see if his mind and muscle and nervous system started responding to it quite right.

Hank wasn't too sure E would make it through the trial weeks. It was taking some will-power. The kid wasn't too thrilled with the way it was making his leg and foot feel. Kept saying he was feeling the shocks and the stings and the prickling. And his body was still learning. He was getting some twitching and jumping of the muscles and foot that he wasn't liking too much. Freaking E out a little.

But Magoo was a tough little fucker. He was the one who wanted to try this. So they were trying. Add it to the list of things insurance wasn't covering. And if the trial on the device worked and they bought the thing — that'd be about five thousands bucks. Not getting into the appointments and follow-up and the replacement costs for the electrodes or the tattooing or permanent placement. And just upgrading as the technology changed or E grew. Or more likely, the disease progressed more and the electrical stimulation didn't work anymore a few years down the road. But quality of life now. Had to focus on the now.

And with the way Magoo was these days — Hank was pretty willing to open his wallet for whatever the kid was willing to pursue. Within reason. And hope it helped. Hoped it worked.

Though, he was also real glad to have Erin home for part of this trial. Knew she had a whole lot of other things on her plate during this trip home and other places her mind and time and responsibilities needed to be. But Hank still knew if anyone could keep E focused on pushing through the discomfort, it'd be Erin. In a different way than him. Had already seen it when they'd gone in to get him fitted with the device and to learn how to get the electrodes placed and the thing wrapped around his leg — all just right. And appreciated having her there to do some of the back-and-forth for assessment and therapy in these first days with him with it on. So he had some extra support. Needed it. The kid really fucking needed it these days.

This sure wasn't comparing to his Spring Break last year. A fact E had pointed out a whole lot. Endless babble about that trip he'd gotten to take with his sister and Jay. Endless talk about wanting to get back down there. For some new Harry Potter ride and some new Star Wars thing. Trying to float like they should be taking H down to see Mickey and the gang and fucking Lightening McQueen.

Just like it all intermingled with his babble about dinosaur digs and scuba trips and deep sea fishing and fossil hunting and rock hounding and getting out to the river for some camping and wanting to do some sort of tree-trek rope course thing and Field's trip off to Egypt and China and all these fucking things to do and places to go. And Hank had finally had to tell him enough.

Just fucking enough. He likely shouldn't of. Really shouldn't of. Brought his son, who managed to hold back his tears so much, to tears. His kid screaming at him at the top of his lungs about, "Don't you know that I know I can't do any of those things. I'm allowed to think about it. I'm allowed to have something!"

But he hadn't been able to listen to it anymore. That night. With everything that was going on. With work and Denny on his back and watching shit come down the pipes faster. With Olive still figuring out how to get on her feet as a single mom and him still doing what he could to support her and his grandson. With the fucking job and the cases they were catching. And going home to a sick kid he hardly got to see except for arguing with him about still needing to do his schoolwork and ending up with some kind of education and sitting in on doctors talking at him rather than to him. Trying to play taxi service to fucking arm's lengths list of therapies — physical, mental, emotional, educational, cognitive — that E wanted to do less and less and turned in bigger fucking arguments. While the bills just kept adding up. Drugs and treatments and options and additional supports that weren't covered. And figuring out what — how — to afford them and make sure there were money for them. And still keeping a roof over the kid's head and clothes on his back and his fucking food that he refused to eat more and more on the table. While trying to do the same for his oldest boy's son and to make sure Jay and Erin were set up and making smart choices with her finances too for when his next grandchild arrived. And he wasn't there or wasn't able to help the way he liked.

So instead he'd let the kid scream at him. Like he did more and more. And didn't go after him when E hauled himself up the stairs and slammed the door. And then when he'd laid in his own bed that night and stared at the fucking ceiling wondering just how the fuck to fix any of this and have it set. And realized he'd really been laying there waiting for E to come and ask to sleep in that bed. To tell him he couldn't sleep. But it hadn't come.

Hadn't come until the morning when E had turned up the shower way too hot and his body couldn't handle it. He'd slipped and fallen in the shower and Hank had had to go in and help him out. While his boy teared up and tried to push him away again. While he had to get his body temperature down and had to help him dress because his hands were tremoring so bad from the heat and the emotion and the adrenaline and the frustration and anger of it all.

And he'd worked on the fucking buttons on his kid's shirt wishing he hadn't said a fucking thing to Ethan about shutting up about these trips and dreams that just weren't going to happen for all kinds of reasons. Because he wished there was something he could to do make those dreams some sort of reality. That at least it was just fucking money that was the reason they wouldn't. But instead he'd fucking burst the little bubble his boy had been clinging to to try to get through. Because he was just trying to get through his own shit so there was something left of his family at the end of this.

"Erin tell you that we talked to the doc about getting the twin's umbilicial cords frozen," Jay floated.

Hank grunted. It'd been mentioned. More than once during this pregnancy.

"Have you had a chance to look into that research trial going on at University of Chicago?"

Hank grunted. Had. Read about it. Hadn't made calls. Because E had been clear that he didn't want to be part of another medical trial. And Hank didn't want his son to feel like more of a lab rat than he already was. They were trying enough experimental shit on him. Had tried.

And he had to listen to Ethan. Could only put him through so much. And even though Hank knew what he was going through as a parent — how he was feeling — he'd done a lot of work in accepting that he couldn't ever fully understand what E was going through. What his boy was enduring. So he was having to trust his son that he was old enough and mature enough and had been through enough that he was capable of saying when enough was enough. That he got to have some say in his treatment and his life and his quality of life.

Hank wasn't sure this stem cell stuff did much beyond turn his son into another experiment. Didn't much know it did anything beyond deal with some of the peripheral nerve stuff. Didn't sound like it did much of anything for the M.S. beyond anecdotally. All just research and talks and people wanting to believe and hope the solution was there. That it did something for people with auto-immune and auto-inflammatory and neurological issues. Like it was the cure-all and end-all and be-all to just about every disease and illness out there. And maybe it was. But it was all still just research now it seemed. Research directed at adults. Not little kids. And Hank did know he wasn't going to float false hopes at Magoo to make him lose more time and days in the hospital and talking to doctors.

Also knew he wished Camille and her science-minded mind was around to read and understand some of this fucking medical research and journals that he could lose a lot of sleep reading through and end up feeling like his reading comprehension had gotten about as bad as Magoo's.

Also knew he didn't want to talk about it. Not much. Not right now. Knew that mentioning this shit was maybe Jay's brother's way of trying to be helpful and supportive. Maybe more of Jay than of E. That it was Jay's way of trying to be supportive and involved. And knew Erin would near do anything to try to make things better for her little brother. Freezing umbilical cords was the least of the kind of sacrifices she'd made or hopeful solutions she'd tried to offer up over the years.

But the reality was that the only real conversation he wanted to have with Erin and Jay about any of this before IA showed up with bracelets for him was to get them to understand that Ethan needed to have a voice and a say in his health care and his life. And them forcing things on him wasn't going to do anything for his quality of life or mental health. That it might do a lot to them losing E faster than this disease was already working at taking him. And that wasn't some call or talk with some fucking jag off or visit from his girl that he wanted to be taking in lock-up.

At least Jay seemed to pick up on he didn't want to talk about it. But guy likely already knew that before he even broached it. Maybe he was just taking a minor jab at it after the Paddy Halstead thing.

"It was a roast – prime rib – I put in the slow cooker," Jay said.

Hank grunted again. He'd seen that. Wouldn't put that cut of meat in a slow cooker. But he wasn't the one doing the meal that year. Change of pace. In a year that had a whole lot of them.

"Is he going to be okay with that?"

Hank cast him a look from staring at his two kids. "Magoo?"

"Yea …"

He shrugged. "Have to be. Don't run a restaurant."

Jay gave a slow nod. "It was what Erin said she wanted."

"Give the pregnant woman what she wants," Hank rasped. Good rule of thumb.

"Unless it's a name like 'Brooklyn'," Jay muttered.

Hank snorted and looked at him. "She's just gouging at you."

Jay made this sound and scrubbed at his face. "Don't know. She's got pretty specific ideas and paradigms about how to name these kids."

"Mmm …," Hank grunted.

Sort of thought maybe Jay did too from the little jab Erin throw out there about the Irish names and saint name things. But Hank had seen Halstead's list. Didn't think it was about that — even though it was. Just was that the guy was sort of old fashioned and pretty practical. And that's something Hank could respect. Related to. Maybe part of the reason he'd put up with the guy moving in on his daughter. The playing house thing. Though, he would've liked a whole lot if the old-fashioned and practical side of Jay had shown up on that one too. Supposed he'd just have to take it where it came. Guy winning out in the argument for his grandkids not getting froufrou names would have to be enough. Hopefully. Erin and that fucking battering-ram forehead of hers. Took a lot to talk sense to her and get it to actually get into that skull of hers.

"Cut a deal," Hank suggested. "She take one, you take the other."

Jay gave him an amused smile. "That the same as when I'm supposed to order from Column A and she's supposed to order from Column B? Because I'm pretty sure whenever we've done that she picks what I'm ordering for me."

Hank smiled and shook his head. That tended to be how it worked. In his experience. "Remind her that a name that sounds cute on a baby might be a whole lot less cute on a full-grown man or woman. In a job interview or in the bedroom."

Jay made a sound that was between amused and disgusted. But there was truth to it. Erin had rattled off some names that might not be so nice as the kids aged. Maybe not even by the time the kids reached school-age. Had to think some about that before you started christening the kid with something weird.

He'd noticed a trend, though. She'd rattled off a bunch of J names and H names. Really didn't think she needed to do that. Didn't get the sense that Jay wanted maybe he did. Maybe that was some kind of compromise they were working at reaching. Jay had definitely had some J names up on it list on the fridge. Didn't notice any Hs. Though, Hank kind of felt there were enough Js and Hs in the family as it was. Too late to the game. Time to get original. Just not too fucking original.

Hank made a dismissive sound. "Pick your battles, Jay …"

There'd be a lot of them now that he was getting two offspring – that had Erin's genetic make-up and personality traits in the mix. Jay wasn't exactly laidback and easy-going either. Dug in his heels too. They were going to have some strong-willed kiddos. And Erin was going to a fucking strong-willed mother – and wife, if Halstead would get off his ass and make an honest woman out of her.

"Energy better placed on getting her to actually hear what that doc was saying," Hank graveled and met Jay's eyes. "You want healthy kids to be giving her fucking hipster names to."

Jay grinned a little at that. "Tell her they're hipster names a few of them might fall of the debate list quick."

Hank grunted acknowledgement. Maybe he'd do just that. Was sort of with Jay. Had seen some of his choices up on the fridge. Wouldn't mind a Daniel or an Andrew. Joshua and Jeffery had jumped out at him too. A little Katie or a Jillian jigs. Maybe a Sammy Samantha or a Lily girl. But he wasn't going to start verbally casting any votes in this one.

"You want to tell me what you got out of that appointment with your Chicago doc?" Hank tried.

Had definitely learned what Jay and Erin heard and took away from the appointments was different. And what they each decided to tell him was pretty different too. What they gave up and what they held back. Usually best to ask either of them separately to get enough pieces to get something resembling a fuller picture of what the docs were actually saying and how the pregnancy was going — for his girl and for his grandkids.

Jay rubbed at his face more and looked over at Erin and Magoo. By the looks of it they both were resting their eyes. Ethan leaning right up against her and into her. There'd just been a level of calm in the kid the past few days with his sister home. Hopefully not calm before the storm.

"You didn't talk about that yesterday?" he muttered.

Hank shrugged. "Curious what you heard."

Jay sighed and let his eyes drift over to him. "Baby B — the girl — she's bigger than Baby A."

Hank grunted. He'd gotten that much out of Erin but she hadn't said it with quite the same tone as Jay was. But the guy tried to shrug it away a bit.

"He's always moving a lot more than her when we're in there. And … just always from what Erin says."

Hank grunted again. "But," he provided.

Jay sighed and went back to staring at Erin. "He seemed more concerned than … what Erin's made out her NYC OB as being."

Hank grunted. Waited. Hoped the guy would say more.

"She's all baby weight," Jay muttered. "Like … look at her."

Hank did. He'd seen it too. Erin hadn't put on a huge amount of weight. Not that you could see in her face or width. Wasn't even really seeing it in across her chest but hadn't been looking too closely at that or said anything. Wasn't exactly sure how you broached with your adult daughter if she could be asking some questions or be too concerned about if her breasts were doing what they were supposed to when there were going to be two babies on the scene that needed feeding. Waded into other territory that also wasn't his business. Could bring up a lot of stuff if they weren't working right and after a miscarriage and her perception and experience on mothering and motherhood and what made you a go one or a bad one. Camille hadn't been able to breastfed E and it stirred up a whole lot of stuff in her about the ones they'd lost and how E got there early and her as a mother. So was likely best not to wade too far into any of it. Let Erin and Jay and the doctors sort that one out.

But Hank did look at her enough when she was home to know that any weight she was putting on was all in that belly. He'd worried a bit about how she was eating — and taking care of herself — with three bodies needing nutrients. He'd given her a bit of a lecture — about junk food and microwaves and eating proper and better. Your thirty-year-old kids love hearing that out of you. But he'd left it at that too, because he hadn't thought too much of it. Cami had carried the boys like that too. But knew that some women really packed on the pounds. But his girl always had a bit of a small build.

"He said that a woman her size, he'd only be expecting about four or five pound babies out of."

Hank grunted. "Thought that was pretty standard for twins."

Jay made a quiet sound. "He just … he wants to watch the boy. Do more regular measurements. The placenta might not be working right so he might not be getting enough food to be growing in there properly."

Hank grunted again. Though he didn't like too many of the words in that statement. "What do they do about that?"

Jay shrugged and met his eyes. "Take them out."

"Mmm …," Hank allowed. "So not May babies."

That got another sound out of Jay. "I'm worried they'll be April babies."

"Hmm …"

But Jay shook his head out of it. "He didn't say that. Just said he wants to watch. That more regular check-ups in the third trimester is standard with twins. Erin's blood pressure is good. Insulin. Gluclose. All her labs."

Hank nodded and stared over at his girl. His son. Knew with twins there was a whole lot of chance they'd get there early. Hadn't be surprised when a C-section date had been set around her 37-week mark. Knew that was perfectly reasonable. Lot of kiddos arrived around then. Decided to break out early.

But hadn't really wanted these ones to break out too early. Didn't need more drama added to their plate. Didn't need the situation to be messier than it already was. But supposed if they got there in April he'd likely still be on the outside too to meet them. Thought he could hold off Denny and the justice system three or four more weeks. Easy. Bigger fear would be that he wouldn't be there to help out with hospital incubator vigils. Or to see those kids leave the hospital. Or to understand what his grandson not growing at the rate of his sister meant. The implications of all that. On the kid. On his girl. On her family. There was already too many sick kids in their family. One was one too many.

"He needed this," Hank said, gesturing at them a bit with E's new bat that he'd been babysitting as he waited for them to find their way back. "Felt him slipping away on me lately."

Jay's eyes shifted back to him real slow-like at that. Gave him a real slow appraisal. "You want to talk about your week," Jay put to him flatly, quietly. Still looking at him.

But Hank just grunted a dismissal. Just kept his eyes on his kids. On what mattered. On where his real worries were.

"Erin … said you seemed kind of melancholy when you took her to lunch," he pressed.

Hank smiled thinly at that. "Look at the fancy mouth on her …"

"Yea, well, paid for a fancy private school education, right," Jay mimicked.

Hank smiled a little more at that but still didn't pay the guy much attention. Still looked at his kids.

"But the stick-up-the-ass vibe must've been more than your usual for her to be pulling out the Merriam Webster," Jay tried.

"Mmm …," Hank offered dismissively.

"It is more than usual," Jay said. "At District—"

"Don't talk about the job on my personal time," Hank rasped and did move his eyes to hold Jay's at that point. "And we aren't going to be talking about the job, Jay."

"It's only going to be a matter of time before Woods starts asking me questions about that night," Jay said. "Where you were. Where Erin was. Where I was. Who was with me."

Hank grunted. "Which is why we aren't talking about it."

"I think we should be getting on the same page," Jay pressed.

Hank bore his eyes into him. "The page you need to be on is the one sitting over there," he said with a jut of his chin. "Which is why you're going to keep as far away from this as you can."

"I'm your subordinate and I'm sleeping with your daughter," he pressed.

"And you're going to make sure she keeps as far away from this as possible too," he graveled firm.

Jay eyes stayed on him. "You want me to get her back to New York and keep here there," he said. Flatness to it but an accusation.

Hank shook his head and rubbed his thumb against his cheek. "Not really. Would like to meet my grandkids."

"See, shit like that just makes me think all this is coming down the pipes faster than you're letting any of in on."

Hank shrugged. "Don't need the lot of you to end up as collateral damage when Denny decides he's ready to start firing off rounds in this hunt of his."

"Yea, well, it all gets written off as a good shot and proper police procedure if you hit the person you're aiming for, doesn't it," Jay muttered. "Doesn't matter who the bullet hits after it goes through its target."

"Doing my best that doesn't happen," Hank said. "But to do that, need you not doing anything to attract any attention to yourself. And her not doing anything to give Denny any more reminders that she exists."

Kept waiting for Denny to turn Erin into some kind of bargaining chip. And that'd just be the end of it. That'd be his breaking point. He'd pack it in then. Tell the guy what he needed to hear and sign off what needed to be signed off on. But his girl – his grandkids – weren't going to be going down with him on this sinking ship. They still had a lot of life to live. A lot of experiences.

Jay stared at him. But Hank just went back to looking at his kids.

"Don't want her back in New York," Hank said. "Prefer you're in the room when your kids are born too."

Jay's eyes flickered to the table a bit.

"The doc tell her to stay put?" Hank asked directly. Erin had danced around it. Wouldn't say yes, wouldn't say no.

But knew well enough that 30 weeks — pushing 31, with twins — Erin shouldn't be getting up in the air. And sure didn't like her driving all that freeway with a belly full of babies — alone — either. Emergency in-transit sounded a lot worse than Denny catching wind that she was back in Chi-Town and using her as a bargaining chip between the two of them.

"He provided cautions," Jay said. "So has the doctor in New York."

"Mmm …," Hank acknowledged.

"She's … struggling with stepping back from work," Jay said.

Hank grunted. That was his girl. "Knew that was part of the deal with this."

"I think she … created the delusion that since she was on a desk job she'd be able to stay until she went into labor," Jay muttered.

And Hank grunted at that too. Because that sounded about right. That'd be Erin. One of the few reasons he was real fucking glad he wasn't having to navigate being her boss right now.

"She's … anxious about … Stone being gone here and Antonio out of the ASA's investigative office. We've haven't figured out anything to have lined up here for her yet."

"It will work out," Hank said. "And, reality, whether she likes it or not — you're both going to have your hands very full those first eighteen months. Going to be hard-up to find a daycare that will take two infants that young. And you'll be hard-up being able to afford one that does — or a nanny. So she's got time to get it sorted."

"I think that's the problem …" Jay muttered.

Hank just stared at the guy. He knew his daughter. Knew she was hard headed. Knew she got ideas in her head. And sometimes for as bright and resourceful of a girl — woman, cop — she could be. She could just be fucking stupid and blind to reality. Take time to accept it. But she needed to accept this part of the reality — the deal — before it came crashing in on her.

"Jay, look," Hank said. "I know you two — you're working through a lot of a mess. Know you're making efforts not to rock the boat too much. But you two have both had a year now. This is the point where you throw that to the wind. Fuck, the her body, her choices, her career, her life. Right now, those are your children, this isn't early days. Those are living people in there. They're going to come out breathing and heart beating and with a whole lot of needs. And you want them — and their mother — in the healthiest and most stable place when that happens. So you have a fucking say. It's the fucking time to start being the father. Piss her off. Be the man — the partner — who pisses the fuck out of her. You've put in the time to do that. So she will get over it. She's going to know it's coming out of the mouth of someone who is going to be making sure her and those kids will be okay. End of story. No more dancing around this crap."

Jay just sat there. They both did. Eyes locked. Some stupid game of chicken that wasn't even a game of chicken. Just their own fucking realities crashing around them too.

"You really think right here, right now is the safest, healthiest and most stable play for any of them to be?" Jay said flatly.

And Hank grounded dismissal. Because fuck if he knew. Chicago — fucking Chicago — it ate you alive and spit you right out. But that's just the way it was.

It was all he knew. It was all his kids knew. It was what they were made for.

"Is because I need you to be there for them," he offered looking by Halstead and over at the two of them again — and two more on-board. Needed that real bad. Because he wasn't sure how much longer it was going to be who was.

"I will …," Jay said.

And that was all Hank needed to hear.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **Whole lot of things don't feel like they are fitting right into this story right now. Usually a sign of the beginning of the end.**

 **This conversation didn't go exactly the way I wanted but don't really feel like playing with it anymore.**

 **There's other chapters I want to do but feeling a little tapped on these stories right now. This series of chapters isn't as light as I hoped for them to be.**

 **We'll see. Might be taking a bit of a break.**

 **I've got an Upton/Erin chapter that wasn't working but is almost finished. I'll likely try to clean it up and post it. But other than that — not really sure right now.**

 **Really not feeling trying to do this as a chronological story. Getting too weighed down.**


	11. Identity

**Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted), Hereafter, and Onward Thankfully. This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

Erin wandered into the back-entrance room – the garage, the cage, the ready room, Mouse's former hole – that had so been her stomping grounds for years. But looked so strange and vacant now.

Maybe because it wasn't a place she got to spend time in anymore. Or maybe just because it wasn't used they way it used to be – the way it really seemed like it was supposed to be. Not anymore. Not with the cameras and the new policies and oversight and the witch hunts pointed in all the wrong directions. And, she knew that some of that witch-hunt had landed right at 21 and Intelligence.

Hank – and Jay – had been trying to keep her out of it. Shelter her from it. So past mistakes and choices and demons didn't catch up with her either. She'd already been enough of a sacrificial lamb – of her own volition, and on Hank, Intelligence's and 21st's behalf. She didn't need more of that to come back and bite her in the ass now.

She knew it. Hank knew it. Jay knew it. And even Al knew it – though, he'd been the one who'd called her first to make sure they were "on the same page". But, he'd taken a step back on that and told her he thought it'd be best if their phone records didn't show they were exchanging any kind of calls. And that'd been the last communication she'd had with him.

But she didn't need Al talking to her to have some sense of the politics going on. In the city. In the police. In the unit. But it was still frustrating not to have a full picture.

Jay claimed he didn't have a full picture either. He said he didn't want a full picture. That neither of them could have a full picture. Not now. And to just let Hank deal with it. And to let him deal with the rest of the people at District that Woods and the Ivory Tower and this internal audit were coming after.

Jay said she'd been lucky to get out when she did. That there'd been some spectacular blow-out that year. Not just in their own barn. But in Districts across the city. That it'd only be a matter of time until the A-Bomb went off in Intelligence. Because the rest of Intelligence as all just laying with lions now. And they were going to be hunted with them.

Erin hated that metaphor. But she could imagine it coming out of Denny Wood's mouth. Him spouting it off to them while they – her people – were left sitting there on egg shells trying to figure out how to stand-by and protect each other but not to be left with their asses hanging out when the shit did hit the fan.

And she felt responsible. She'd played a role. And she should've gone better. She was trying to protect Hank – to pay back debts – and now she'd caught Al in a mess. A mess that was spilling over and impacting her family. Both her families.

Jay said it wasn't her fault. But he'd stopped himself at saying it was Hank's fault either. And she didn't know who to be mad at it. She felt like her anger should be directed at Hank but she just didn't have that in her anymore. Not after what they'd all been through these past few years. She'd already tried to hate him and to not talk to him and to extract herself from his grip and cut herself out of her life. She'd tried so hard she'd ended up hurting herself – and all the rest of her relationships – more. And in the end she just hadn't been able to do it. And she just couldn't do it now.

She was about as capable of hating Hank as she had been of hating Bunny. She still didn't. She couldn't – as much as she wanted to. And it'd taken thirty-some years to cut Bunny out of her life. A slice and dice that she wasn't even sure felt permanent or real yet. But at the same time she had absolutely no desire to see her again – right now. For Bunny to get near her grandkids. To turn them into some sort of pawns in whatever else she got herself into. Because Bunny always found a way to get involved in bad news. She was usually the one making it.

But even with that reality – it'd taken years and years and repeated tries to cut her out. Maybe that was her own addiction issues. Genetics. She couldn't go cold turkey or make a clean break. Or really stay sober. She had her relapses. Though, she kept telling herself this time it was going to stick.

Thirty-one years to stick. With her mother. That meant even if she was going to cut Hank out – she'd need to try harder. There were still a lot of years before she'd be the one to make it permanent. Make it stick.

She didn't want her anger with him to stick ever so hard that she'd try to cut him out again. She'd made moves so that she couldn't – wouldn't – not easily. He was her dad – whether she liked it or not. It wasn't a when she liked it thing. He was the grandfather to her kids. He was trying … so fucking hard to do what he thought was right for his family. Like he always did. However … fucked up … that ended up being. However much that seemed to fuck them all out.

Erin knew there was going to be fall out from all this. She didn't need Jay or Hank to tell her that. She might not be around to get a read on exactly what Denny's play was - exactly what the fall-out was going to be. But she'd been around long enough she had a pretty good idea what it was going to be.

And it was going to be messy. Not just for her home family – for the people she'd come up with in Hank's unit.

Jay just reaffirmed that. She knew that enough had been going on that year with all of them mixing up personal and professional with their outlooks and actions and choices that there were going to be lots of reasons for CPD to justify cleaning house by the end of it all.

Jay thought Antonio might be the only one who survived. Which really had been the play for Intelligence all along. Hank was only supposed to be the placeholder until IA decided he'd outlived his usefulness. Or he wasn't able to find the loophole in extending that game. He'd found enough to last the past five and a half years. But it was starting to seem like that loophole was becoming a noose at this point.

That's what Jay said too. That at this point it felt like it was all just a waiting game in letting the cops of Chicago hang themselves. Good ones as much as bad ones. And after that bomb dropped at the 21st, it'd be a question of where the survivors ended up and what they ended up doing. There were going to be causalities.

Erin knew Jay was doing his best to stay off that list. He'd been quietly vocal about that. He was going to be there for their kids. But Erin also knew he'd made his fair of poor choices and mistakes that year too.

Jay was trying to put them behind him so that he landed on his feet somewhere even if he caught some shrapnel. He figured where he landed was likely going to be night patrol, though. But he figured that was better than a mall cop or a trooper rent-a-cop for some condo development.

It wasn't exactly a situation Erin wanted to contemplate with her job-situation – and employment, and career – so up in the air right now. Still. That scared her too. To not have that placeholder in her definition of herself. She wasn't just going to be on maternity leave. She was going to be unemployed. No matter what was drawn up on the paperwork for the time-being. If it was made to look like she was taking a time away from her position at the New York District Attorney's Investigator's Office and the task team she'd been assigned to. Even if New York had laws that legally obligated to have a job of some sort for her to go back to after taking her disability, FMLA and parental leave – everyone seemed to know that she didn't have any intention of moving back to New York after the babies arrived. She really couldn't see any circumstance where that would be realistic.

Though, maybe if Jay ended up as collateral damage, it might be more realistic to … start over in a different state and a different city. But she'd already been there and done that. And it wasn't what she wanted. And it just wasn't realistic. Not with Ethan. Not with the reality that whatever happened with Denny Woods and IA and the internal audit – the biggest target was on Hank and he was going to experience the most explosive fallout.

Erin knew the bigger question was likely going to be where Hank ended up when it was all said-and-done. But he wasn't exactly talking to her about it. She got a grunt or the topic completely changed. Even when she'd blown up at him after that initial call from Al. A fight where he'd cut her off and hung up on her – giving her the same line as Al about any telephone or Skype conversations they were going to be having. With the added caveat that he wasn't sure boss anymore and he didn't talk to his kids about the job. That he'd only be talking to her as his daughter and about family. There weren't going to be anymore conversations about work – past or present.

She'd been pissed off with him enough that she'd gone about a week purposely not speaking to him. But she couldn't keep it up. She needed the updates on Ethan. And she needed to know Hank was okay too. To try to see it in his eyes. She wasn't convinced that was what she was seeing there. It was more like she was seeing what she'd seen in him in the summer when Ethan was in the hospital. That he'd resigned to reality and was just making preparations within that defined realm. And that scared her a little.

She might be an adult. She might be about to be a mom. She might have Jay. But with these babies on the way – if she couldn't have a mom in her life – she at least wanted to have a dad. She wanted someone who'd been a parent to talk to and to ask questions – and to get pissed off about his fucking unsolicited advice and opinions. She wanted her kids to have a grandparent and a family that was bigger than her and Jay.

So Erin really wanted to believe that Hank would … figure something out. Fix it.

That's what he did. For so long.

"You can't be back here," she heard called at her from the equipment room. And turned from her contemplation of the cage to face Upton.

She'd figured someone likely was down there and prepping to head out for the door to be open. But she wasn't sure who she expected or wanted it to be. Erin wasn't sure that she was who Hailey was expecting it to be either because she did a bit of a double take.

Erin rested her arms on top of her round belly. "I know. Carrying Shamu's offspring, right?"

Upton give her a smile and shook her head. "That wasn't what I was thinking. Just … I didn't know you were in town. Jay hadn't mentioned. I mean that you were here this week. He'd said you were home for Easter."

"Mmm …," Erin allowed and turned a little awkwardly away – again. Because everything was a little awkward right now.

Whenever she was back in Chicago she felt … out of place. Exposed. In so many ways. Like every trip home got more dangerous in so many ways. For her and the babies and the pregnancy and the risk of going into some sort of premature labor. A reality that was weighing on her more and more. Especially after that appointment. And the way Jay kept dwelling and fretting about it. Because this was so out of his control. And she knew it was driving him crazy. And causing him more worry.

She knew they were going to argue about it all week. Back-and-forth on every possible outcome on an outcome they couldn't really predict. It wasn't that she wanted to end up in New York without him if the babies arrived early. But she also didn't know if now was really the right time to be back in Chicago just yet either.

And these kinds of encounters just drove that home too. It wasn't just about staying off Denny Wood's radar – and being generally inaccessible for anyone to start asking too many questions of her. It was grappling with the reality that people were perceiving her differently. That she was going to have her own identity shifted.

She identity had already shifted in so many ways. Not being part of Intelligence anymore. Not just being defined as "Hank's girl" – having to exist without that title and safety net and support to propel her and protect her. Not being a Chicago cop. Being in a really fucking hard and challenging long-distance relationship that was stretching her as a person and a woman and a partner and a friend and a girlfriend. In ways she wasn't sure she'd previously known she'd be willing to bend for someone. Because now she was the one who was more ready than Jay to move forward when so much of their relationship had been wrapped up in her fears of commitment and intimacy. To not be viewed – or even acknowledged – as a former Chicago street kid and C.I. in New York. To not have that lurking as part of her past self and identity. And to be a mother – not just an older sister.

It was a title – and identity shift – that she already felt stirring in her. This whole pregnancy. And it'd been a struggle. A struggle to let herself accept it and feel it. And to try not to be afraid of it and to worry about what she really knew about what any of that meant. Yet at the same time settling into exactly what it meant as she felt these little people growing inside of her. Moving inside of her. When she heard their heart beats already and watched their hands and legs and feet flail on the ultrasound machines. As she learned some of their little quirks already about the who and why they were moving. What they were reacting to. What they liked and didn't like. She was pretty sure they were going to have some shows and music playlists that were favorites from the get. Just like she was sure at least their little boy got all excited when he heard Daddy's voice. How they both came alive on the weekends Jay visited and put his hand against them for the first time as he arrived. They knew. And that was a strange reality and a stranger sensation.

It was so fucking strange to think to these kids she was first and foremost going to be "mom". All these other parts of herself that she'd used to define herself were going to be less than secondary to them. They'd be these fucking unmeaningful blips to these kids for who knew how long. And somehow that felt like she was almost supposed to be letting the grips of those labels fall away from her too. But that was hard. They'd been her security blanket for so long. And she didn't want to lose herself to this other label – and identity – that still felt so foreign.

So thrust on her in a way she wasn't quite prepared for. Because it changed so many people's perception of her – and what her roles and commitments and priorities and responsibilities were. That made her uncomfortable. It felt like … not just the liability that Hank said you could let family become. It felt like people – society – wanted to see it as a weakness. As it some how made you lesser. Lesser able of being all these other things – that went beyond being mom to these kids.

That was hard. And it felt hardest when she was around other cops. And other female cops. The ones without kids yet. The ones who gave up their personal life and social life for the job. Something she could relate to and remember. That she'd done for her twenties. Something she thought she'd do her whole life. But … life had other plans.

She'd spent part of this pregnancy really wishing Jules was still around. She would've liked to talk to her about some of this. To get some solicited advice.

Lieutenant Benson had tried to talk to her and be supportive. More than once. But Erin always felt like she was doing it more for Hank – checking in on her – than out of any sort of dynamic they'd established independently. She wasn't good at letting people get close. She was starting to realize she'd been worse about getting close to – and relating to – other women. Especially women who were older than her. There was just … a distrust. Or a trust and dynamic that needed to be earned and she didn't do well at letting that happen in her life.

Besides, she wasn't sure Benson's thoughts and attempts at friendly advice were really applicable. It wasn't the same thing as much as it was. Benson had been older and she'd adopted. She was more established in her career. She'd had a higher rank. It was different.

Benson had tried to offer up Amanda Rollins for support too. But they never really clicked either. It was just like Rollins tried to hard for them to click. To be her friend and to relate to each other. But they were very different cops, working very different types of jobs while being very different people. And she got the sense that Rollins – even if she was more her age range and had a kid of her own – still did a good job at digging her own holes and finding bad news. Erin didn't need that in her life right now. Not when she was trying to get on track and stay on track for this … new life and identity she was trying to – struggling to - ready herself to settle into.

So instead she dealt with the women in the Investigator's office. And by dealt – she meant tolerated. She tried to play nice. But really she hadn't gotten into much of her personal life. Because a lot – not all – really did want to be too fucking chatty about the engagement ring on her finger and her trips back to Chicago to see Jay (and Ethan and Hank, though she usually left them out of the equation when she mentioned anything about her personal, private time and life) and her growing baby belly. She wasn't good at that kind of chit-chat. So she hadn't tried to make friends there either. Because it all was always just supposed to be temporary. A stepping stone to getting her life back on track. But instead while she was doing that – she'd somehow … she knew how … had managed to get on the scenic route back to a Chicago and life she hardly recognized.

So she just never knew what to say to anyone these days. Like she somehow had to explain herself.

Erin almost felt like she was some sort of display of … some message that she knew she wasn't trying to project. This wasn't a new her. This wasn't her shifting away from wanting to be a cop. It wasn't her trying some different path to have some greater excuse to get back to Chicago or to keep working on her relationship with Jay.

This was just life. It'd just happened. And now she was living it. Just like she'd done – figured out – at every other bump along the road.

But it was worse now because it always felt like she was hiding and like people never quite knew what to say. And having any conversation about any of it – the pregnancy, New York, the twins, her and Jay, when she was coming back, Ethan, Hank, her work and career and future. It all just felt so … jumbled.

Trying to avoid having this kind of encounter had been exactly why she'd pulled the car around back rather than waiting out front. But Kim had been taking so long to come down that she'd needed to stand up and stretch her legs.

She could only manage sitting so long anymore. Just like she could only manage standing so long anymore. But in a car it was different. She was rarely in a car with living in New York right now. Not that having to navigate transit or subway stations or New York sidewalks when you were pregnant with twins was exactly a pleasant or comfortable experience either. But it'd meant that spending any time in a car – even as a passenger - felt so much more awkward and uncomfortable – just like everything else in life.

Getting behind the wheel was even worse. Jay was sort of loving that when she was home. He wasn't always having to by the passenger. Using at it as an excuse to reintegrate every time that he wasn't just a househusband and he wasn't going to be. He tried to say it in one of his sarcastic tones. But it wasn't a joke. She knew he was serious.

And maybe that scared her a bit too. Because she wasn't a house-wife either. It was another label and identity that terrified her. But she knew she was going to have to add it to the list for the first … while … after the twins got there. And she was still figuring out how to do that.

Which just lead to the bigger – maybe biggest fear, or question mark – she had about this new part of her identity and how it might mean people ended up perceiving her: Jay. How becoming a mother or the "mother of his children" would change the way it looked at her or treated her. How it would impact their relationship. Because she already knew it was. Conversations they'd had to have. And accommodations and compromises they'd had to make. Her having to be more flexible in hearing his opinions and concerns.

Him wanting a bigger say in certain choices she was making because they didn't just affect her. They affected their family – and his children too. Changes in things he would and wouldn't let her do. And even though they made sense – and sometimes she even appreciated the hand – she knew there were going to be times it'd annoy her or make her bristle. Because she could swing a hammer as while as anyone. She could change a tire and carry groceries upstairs and get a baby bucket car seat in and out of the car. And he was exerting some of them more – expressing them – and it felt like there was a part of it that meant becoming a mother – and the mother of his children – was this strange layer of loss of independence that went beyond you having more than yourself anymore. It was having to acknowledge limits and accept help in a different way. And from him. In their relationship.

It was just this change in their dynamic. And she knew that would happen. It had to. But she also didn't just want to become the "mother of his children". She still wanted to be her – to him. Just Erin. His friend and his partner. His lover. And, yeah, maybe she worried about that too just as much as he was – about what exactly this would mean for their sex lives and sexuality and seeing each other as sexual beings. About if she'd be neglecting him – and his needs physically and emotionally. Or if he would hers. Because of the babies and these new titles and dynamics and identities that came with parenthood.

And that was scary too. Because they'd worked so hard on … their sex lives and their communication and their relationship. They still had work to do. And they weren't going to be able to work on it in the same way anymore – because they were going to have to be different people with different priorities on some level.

And how did that work – in a family. And in a relationship. Like theirs.

Add it to the list of reasons she wished Camille was around. She really wanted to understand how she balanced keeping house and being a wife and raising a family and having her career. Because she'd made it look so easy even though Erin could pinpoint a lot of moments where Camille was exhausted and frustrated with all of them.

Instead she had to settle for Hank's perspectives and memories. And his anecdotes of being a parent and a cop and doing the job. But it wasn't like she could – or would ever – ask Hank some of the things that … she just thought she might want to know or talk about from a woman's perspective. But that she didn't even know how to ask yet either.

Erin was instead trying to take some heed in the hope that … Jay was more like Hank than sometimes she wanted to admit. And that Hank was a good father – however flawed. And he'd been a good, loving, caring husband – however flawed. And he'd managed to make his marriage and family work despite his stellar personality and his obsession with the job.

So Erin had to hope too that Jay, even though he wasn't a house-husband, he would be when he was home. That he'd mostly be present when he was home. That he was used to having to share time and attention and frustration – because he'd still signed onto her when she'd put maybe too much focus on Ethan. And that as much as she didn't want to just be "mom" in their relationship, that he wouldn't want to just be "dad" in it either. Not to each other. That they'd still have time to work on who and what they were as a couple. And that he'd make that time and space. For them. And for his family and to be there for his kids. To actually do things with them and to invest time and energy and love into them. Because he already was with his apprehensive twittering about being a father to a son and to a daughter and what they may or may not be like and the little people they'd be and who'd they become. And some of the hopes and dreams and things he'd like them to do – and be and look like – as a family.

So he'd be there. With his new and added layers in identity too. And that he'd help with it all. Raising them and the cooking and cleaning and managing all the crap and responsibilities that came with having people to take care of, that you were accountable to, beyond yourself.

She knew he would. She knew he had his struggles and was struggling with the concept of parenthood – and fatherhood - like her. His parents and childhood had done a number on him too. The stress and lack of control of everything going on around them was triggering him more than she'd like. But it could be worse. She was just getting him on nights where he had that far-off look and he played mute on the phone with her. But that was also Jay. It was something she'd learned to accept and to work within. It didn't change her love for him. And it didn't change the fact she wanted her kids to grow up with a father – and whatever happened, he'd been clear in his commitment that he'd work hard to make that work. Even though she knew – she was sure – there were going to be times in his life and their lives that it was going to be a struggle to make it work.

Though, it was coming with her own levels of compromises – and tolerances that she might not have conceded on previously. He kept trying to exert some control in all of this. To plan and organize and to be prepared. But she hated giving up control – especially of her own life and body – as much as he hated not having control. She was sure they were going to be having little confrontations – and probably one really fucking big one – about it all week.

That day's argument – so far – had been that morning when he'd made clear that he'd actually prefer she didn't drive. But getting around Chicago on public transit – or in taxis or Ubers – was a very different story than New York. She wasn't about to turn the afternoon into a never-ending affair of waiting and walking – more than it already was going to be.

But still, right now Erin was wishing she'd stayed put in the car to avoid this kind of chit-chat. But she was going to have to get up and go inside anyway when Kim did show.

The babies had decided her bladder was a trampoline again. They'd shifted slightly when she'd stood. But now the weight of them was bearing down in uncomfortable ways. She was going to have to find a bathroom soon.

And she supposed in the grand scheme of things, talking to Hailey was one of the easier encounters she could have. They barely knew each other. Beyond a few weeks work. And a year's worth of Jay deciding how he felt about his new partner. Erin working at deciding how she felt about her too.

"Are you back back?" Upton asked.

Erin shook her head still gazing off into that once familiar space. "It was supposed to be in about a month."

Supposed to be. That was going to be the fight of the week. If she was going to go back to New York. If she should stay here. If she could keep up work here – keep telecommuting – until the babies did show up.

She knew what Jay's opinion was on the matter. He kept saying it to her in different ways. And she could feel him working at upping the ante and pushing the boundaries each time. If he didn't get the response out of her that he wanted soon, she knew they were going to have a blow up.

And it wasn't that she disagreed with him. It wasn't that she was in denial. Or she was only hearing what she wanted to hear at the doctor's appointments.

It was just complicated. And it was scary. And there was this identity – and change – that she hadn't thought she would have to settle into yet. She thought she had at least six more weeks. And now …

"Just in time for the shower," Hailey tried.

Erin made a little noise and turned to give her a thin smile and shrug.

Right now part of her was wondering if these babies were going to arrive before the shower's scheduled date. If she would be a mom before her birthday. Jay had somehow decided that they were going to make their appearance at thirty-two weeks. She didn't know what he thought he'd heard out of the doctor's mouth – that she clearly hadn't. Or what fucking documentary or these fucking mom's online forums that he was trolling endlessly. But that number was in his head. And if he was somehow right – the twins would be there the week of her birthday. Maybe even on her birthday. And that just seemed to her like it was asking for them to be born into bad news.

She'd prefer they be born on Jay's birthday if they were going to come early. Or even like Ethan had suggested when they'd told him that the Chicago OB was scheduling the C-Section for just before Memorial Day – just at about thirty-six weeks – and he wanted to know if they could be scheduled for May the Fourth instead. Because apparently that'd be much cooler. And just fucking ridiculous. Though, if they were there by Jay's birthday – it'd be about the same thing.

Before Mother's Day. Just too soon. Because thirty-six weeks felt too soon. Thinking of the babies arriving … who knew. Anytime.

But she felt like she was screwed either way. She felt like if she went back to New York the twins were going to decide to make their appearance right now – to soon. And if she stayed in Chicago that she'd breeze through to thirty-six weeks and be doing so well that the OB might decide to just see if the kids and her body could get up to thirty-seven weeks or later. That these fucking kids would decide they were going to be the twins that stayed baking right up until forty-weeks. That'd be just the fucking kind of kids she'd have. She knew it. And then she'd be sitting in Chicago with her thumb up her ass, bored out of her mind and feeling even more like she was suddenly supposed to become a house-wife. And that just seemed like a whole different kind of … scary scenario.

But Erin was afraid too to be in a situation where she didn't have Jay there when the twins arrived. She wanted him to be there – he deserved to be there. And she was afraid of having to deal with a potential medical situation outside of her control without having someone on her team by her side. Having her partner with her. She was afraid about if the babies were too early and ended up in the NICU. And for how long. If there were complications for them. Or for her.

And just not being ready. These kids needed to give her some more time. Just a little bit. For all their sakes.

"I don't think Jay's here yet," Hailey said. "Had his … 50 minutes … at lunch, I think."

Erin turned and looked at her. She weighed how to respond.

She knew Jay had his therapy that day. And it was likely a good thing. She could tell he needed someone to talk to – that wasn't her – after their appointment with their new OB here. But she also knew that he'd be talking about her. And the pregnancy. And the twins. And what had been said. And that this woman would be coaching him on how to talk to her about any of it. And how to organize his thoughts and feelings in a way that hopefully wouldn't delve them into an argument. But likely would anyway.

The appointment had scared Jay. He was trying to put on a strong face about it. But it wasn't working very well.

Being told the boy was smaller and that they were going to have to more closely monitor his growth for the rest of the pregnancy had got to him. Despite Google reassurances that one twin was usually smaller. But what Jay had "heard" was that their son was going to be "a lot" smaller than the girl. That wasn't what Erin had taken from it. It wasn't what she was seeing in looking at the measurements of the previous ultrasounds.

But it was just causing Jay to Google and spout facts at her. His favorite fact was that in boy-girl twins the girl is usually more dominant because girls develop faster. He was very concerned about their daughter being bossy and walking all over their son. Apparently this was a given since the girl had her genes. Which she thought was more than slightly insulting. A fact of her own she'd pointed out.

If anything Erin was pretty convinced that their son was the one being a fucking pain-in-the-ass. And the back and the ribs and the bladder and the hips. He might be small – but he was a kicker. And if their girl had to go through nine months of enduring all his kicks in that close of space, she was more than justified in pushing him around a bit when they were toddlers, as far as Erin was concerned.

Another minor argument they'd had already that trip. Basically about nothing. About speculation. Nervous, excited speculation combining with anxiety. So … it was probably good he had the chance to try to untangle some of it with a more objectively, removed party. If he was even talking about that at his session. He'd complained that he felt like the sessions were devolving into just fifty-minutes of rehashing cop war stories rather than him working on much of anything. So she'd told him that maybe he should be redirecting some of those conversations and telling the shrink there were some other things he needed to talk through. Shock-and-awe stories – unless they were ones that had left actual scars and weren't just good stories he could talk to other cops about over a beer at Molly's – weren't a productive use of his time or reflective of the kind of things she – they – needed him working on as a man and partner and father-to-be. It was just avoidance.

And there had been another minor spat between them. Apparently it was going to be that kind of trip. Erin actually thought it was probably going to be that kind of however many weeks until the twins got there. Their emotions were just running too high.

"I'm waiting for Kim," she said and gestured back at where Ethan was waiting in the car. "We're supposed to grab a late lunch. Go check out a couple venue options for this shower that we're being forced to make everyone endure."

Hailey gave her a little smile and crossed her arms too. "I don't think anyone feels that way about it."

Erin raised her eyebrow. She didn't need to be upstairs to have a pretty good idea of the commentary Adam would have about this. And Hailey must've been around enough she caught onto that.

"Okay," she conceded, "but we've been told that this is now a party with batting cages and video games. So I think even the reluctant participants are getting a little competitively excited."

"Mmm …," Erin acknowledged. "Replace guessing delivery date or birth weights with letting the guys swing their bats around …"

Hailey smirked. She'd been working in boys' town too long too. A whole lot of dicks hanging out and swinging – even when you managed to find yourself with a good team. Though, at least when you landed with a good team they occasionally tried to keep it in check. And, at least Upton wasn't the only woman in the bullpen these days. There'd been enough years of that – even with her guys – that it could be a little much. But growing up with brothers and Hank as a guardian – and a cop – and spending her entire adult career in a male-dominated environment, she could be fairly tolerant. And she also didn't pull too many punches in telling them when they'd crossed a line and they needed to zip it up – their lips and their pants. But that didn't mean that you still didn't sometimes feel annoyed and objectified and openly vulnerable by what came out of their mouths and in their actions. Or worse – like even the good guys and the good cops still felt like they had to protect you and you were somehow lesser capable on the job. And Erin thought that likely became even more – when you were there looking like a beluga whale – and after you had kids. You were seen differently.

But Hailey only shrugged at the little comment and the little jab at the guys upstairs. "Antonio still seems to think he'll win any sort of pot that's set up for that. He claims he's a master forecaster. But needs to see you to make an accurate prediction."

Erin rolled her eyes. "Maybe I should get back in the car …," she mumbled.

She really wasn't sure she was ready to be that on display yet. Or to have any of the guys making comments or wanting to touch her belly. Or making comments to Jay after she left like it was all just busting-balls. She actually might be happy enough to avoid it that she'd be willing to sit in the car and potentially piss her pants.

"Jay seems pretty excited," Hailey offered abruptly, though. "I mean, he's being pretty aloof about it. But you can tell."

Erin allowed a quiet smile and looked down. She knew Jay was excited. Terrified – but excited. He was trying his best to contain both of those emotions. But she could read him well enough they were painted all over his face. And the evolving nursery walls.

He'd really flung himself into having that prepared. But he'd completely gone into emergency preparedness after their appointment. The nursery was pretty much done now. As of that weekend. And Jay and Will and Hank providing they weren't quite as handy as they thought with putting together used cribs they'd made the mistake of taking apart to transport and not noting how the fuck the things went back together.

It'd been her and Ethan who'd fumbled endlessly through that. She sent the guys to put up shelves and pictures – and deal with the refinishing the fucking dresser, and putting to shortage shelves and change table that actually came with instructions.

There'd still been a lot of swearing going on between the three of them. She was pretty sure that Hank's potty-mouth that day had likely financed their first month's worth of diapers. Ethan was going and claiming "swear jar" money on his niece and nephew's behalf every time Hank complained about the "fucking incomprehensible instructions" and "what the fuck does this even illustrate? It doesn't look like any fucking piece of hardware I've seen in my life."

It was done, though. Early. What should've been two months early. But now who knew.

She'd called her doctor in New York to see if she knew better. But she just got spouted at again about how the third trimester with twins could be unpredictable. And she really just had to make a decision about where she was willing to be – and wanted to be – when the babies were born. And to be prepared to be in that place for several weeks after the twin's arrival if they did arrive ahead of about thirty-five or thirty-six weeks. That the would be in NICU. That they might need help with breathing and feeding and keeping warm and their temperatures regulated. That she wasn't at the point she needed to be on full bed-rest yet. She could still work as long as she was able to manage it and making sure she was getting rest periods and staying off her feet for long periods. That she had a few more weeks before she'd strongly advise stopping travel. But she really should be prepared for and ready to accept anything at this point.

And Erin wasn't sure how helpful that was. At all.

"He must be excited too," Hailey offered and Erin followed her gaze over to where Ethan was slumped in the car staring at his phone. "Don't know too many little brothers who'd be organizing their sister's baby shower."

Erin allowed a little shrug at that. She wasn't sure how anything Ethan was right now. She could tell he was struggling on a lot of fronts. Hank told her as much. But being home always just drove it right home.

Looking at him – being home right now, this week – it also just seemed to be driving home what her life might look like if she stayed now. For those first months after the twins got there. She'd be a taxi service for Ethan as much as she was being a mother to the twins. And even though she'd spent years doing that for her brother anyway – transporting him between school and appointments and activities and playing big sister who was really more of a caretaker than just an older sister – somehow right now it just felt like it was an added criteria to her becoming that house-wife she didn't want to be.

But being there for Ethan – for Hank – was part of the reason she was coming home. Why she wanted her and Jay to raise their family in Chicago. The few day, indepth glimpse of what Ethan's days – and attitude – looked like right now made her wonder how Hank was doing it. Really. Even though she knew he had help from Olive and Jay. But he also didn't. Ethan was being left more and more to his own devices. Though, thankfully he was a good kid and those devices meant he was pretty much living at the AbilityLab, Field and on the couch at home with his dog watching TV and listening to music. Erin knew she would've found a lot more trouble than that left to her own devices at that age. But she wasn't on crutches and struggling with fatigue and pain and neuropathy on a daily basis.

As usual for most of her trips home anymore, Ethan just seemed kind of deflated and stoned. Though, he'd had his moments. That weekend. In the bit of time they were getting together. And she was doing her best to make sure they did get some quality time in before the twins arrived. While they could. And so this trip home for the week wouldn't just be about her appointments and her making sure he got into his RIC appointments and therapy for this functional electrical stimulation that Hank (and Ethan) had decided to try to try to improve some of his mobility and spasticity in his legs and feet.

And Ethan was being good about it. He was acknowledging she was pregnant and the babies could be there soon. He wasn't unexcited – he'd become more comfortable with the fact she was going to be a mom – but he was still working at grasping it. She could tell. But so was she. And Erin just had to hope it'd be easier for him when the twins got there and he got to see them and hold them. She hoped it'd be easy for her to … make the time to make sure she was still involved in his life. There for him. The way he needed her to be. But she knew that was going to be hard. And she knew there were parts of their relationship they were both still trying to repair. Things had changed there too.

And Ethan was trying. He really was. He was taking an interest and he was helping. He was putting forward little boy silly suggestions. Names. Comments. Telling her that there were party room rentals at Field and she could have a dinosaur shower. She'd vetoed that idea. So he'd suggested a dinosaur party for their first birthday. Of course.

She might be willing to tolerate that. Just like she might be willing to tolerate this baseball idea he was pushing. That everyone seemed to be on-board with.

"I haven't seen him in …," Hailey shook her head. "Probably June," she admitted.

Erin allowed a nod. "Hank doesn't like his personal life on display at District too much right now."

Hailey gave her a look. It was clear that there was an irony to that statement. There'd been a whole lot of personal life and family life colliding in their bullpen for the better part of four years. And it wasn't exactly like it'd been completely reeled in with her out of the picture. And now there were was standing there – on display – with Hank's son in tow.

But she was just following instructions.

"Oh my god," Erin heard behind her and turned to see Kim coming down the stairs, with Trudy in tow and her mouth hanging open even farther than Burgess'. "Look at you."

"She looks like she's going to burst," Trudy said and Erin realized she was talking to Hank trailing down after them.

So much for not being on display. And not having his personal life on display.

Trudy just got a grunt.

And Kim was already at her hovering and Erin could tell she was restraining herself from touching her belly. Her hands were nearly floating there. So she made herself unfold her arms.

"It's okay," she allowed.

Kim smiled even more and they were there. It felt so strange having anyone other than Jay touching the babies. It even felt a little weird when Hank and Ethan did it. Though, they both managed to restrain themselves unless they were invited. Eth actually usually looked nervous about it every time. Where Hank often looked like he was just waiting to be told he could touch her to feel the babies moving. Though, he'd never admit that.

"You must want to kill Jay right about now," Kim said.

"Or castrate him," Trudy said, hovering near her just as awkwardly as Hank ever did. Erin knew she'd want her turn groping her too. But she'd have to wait until Kim was done.

"Mmm," Erin shrugged, "he did a decent job at annoying me on a regular basis before he knocked me up."

"That must be some sort of polite glow the pregnancy hormones are creating," Trudy said and really moved in as Kim let her take a turn. The touch boy a kick – a single one, which was usually a 'you're fucking pissing me off, stop it' kick as far as Erin could tell. But she wasn't going to share that with Platt – especially when her face lit up in a shocked awe and question that made it clear she'd never had the chance to feel that before.

"Yep …," Erin confirmed. "That would be Baby A."

"Definitely a Voight," Trudy said, giving Hank a look. He just made another missive grunt.

"Trudy's going with you two," he said. Actually, it was more of a stated order.

One that got a startled, "Ohhh …," out of Kim.

And Erin raised an eyebrow. "Then maybe I should be taking the whole class, Hank," she said and gestured at Hailey. Hank smacked. "Or why not just host the shower right here, right now."

Hank just smacked and dug some cash out of his pocket, flipping through some bills. "Are you paying for our lunch?" she said.

Another smack. He held it out at her. "Put down the deposit on the place he wants," he said.

Erin wrapped her arms back around herself. Stubborn as ever, sharp elbows out. "Oh, you're in luck, Hank, your son is already sitting in there with an envelope full of cash."

Hank just smacked at her again and shifted to hand the cash to Trudy instead. She actually took it – without a fuss and Erin glared at her. But she was already counting it out and then digging out an envelope of her own to place it in.

Hank gestured between Kim and Hailey. "Partner up. On radio."

"Uhh …," Hailey said and looked at her even more awkwardly than that whole conversation had been.

"And this is a fucking lunch break," he said, nodding at Erin. "You aren't hitting every fucking batting cage in the city."

"Three, Hank," she said. "We were going to three places."

Three. Maybe four. The one Ethan had his heart set on - and Jay had apparently floated, if not outright promised, to the team. The gym and party room at the community center at Sheridan Park - so basically their backyard, which sounded a lot easier and cheaper than Ethan's research. The Windy City Field House as some sort of middle middle ground. And Sluggers Sports Bar - because Adam, in all his wisdom about baby showers (which apparently was worse than her fourteen-year-old brother's) had told Jay that if they really wanted cops to go, they should be booking the cages there, on a game day, with an open bar. Which was so many levels of fucking ridiculous that she was happy to immediately eliminate it from the list and to stop by Ruzek's desk while she was upstairs emptying her bladder and tell him that he still could be a fucking bonehead. But, she was pretty sure Adam seeing her would induce more bonehead comments out of him to Jay after she left.

Another smack from Hank. "His appointment's at two," he gravelled. "Unless the place is a shit-hole and really not what you want to do for this thing, look at the place, put down the deposit, grab something to eat in the car."

"Well, now this lunch sounds real fun ...," Erin glared. "Thank you so much, Hank."

And he just gestured at Upton. "Hailey's driving."

"Uhh …," Hailey stuttered again.

Hank gave her another smack. "Should have your partner's back on," he gestured at Erin, "all this."

And Erin wasn't too sure what that meant. She was pretty sure she didn't like it. But Hank was already bee-lining it out of there. And Platt and Kim were doing their best to try to make her forget it happened – by instead peppering her with questions and commentary that reminded her exactly was happening. She was her but she wasn't. Now. Ready or not.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **I will likely attempt the Will/Jay one next. Or maybe a Erin/Jay one. But there might be a bit of a gap between this and the next posting.**


	12. Something to Talk About

**Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted), Hereafter, and Onward Thankfully. This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

Erin barely glanced over at the stairs as she heard Jay come in the door downstairs and his fussing around down there.

He was as bad as Hank about no boots in the house – and taking off your coat so you looked like you were staying a while. Though, unlike Hank's house there wasn't a family living there – yet. It was just Jay most of the time and his collection of shoes pilled near the door still made it look like there were multiple people living there. Likely teenaged boys involved in all different kinds of sports activities. Not one man who insisted you needed a different pairs of shoes for just about everything. It was one of his quirks that she didn't quite get – no matter who many times he insisted on explaining why his shoe fetish made some sort of sense (in his mind).

Though, he did defend it with such ferocity, she pretty much had decided that it had something to do with either his childhood – and his mother or how his father treated him and his sporting and athletic activities and just rules they had in that house; the abuse that he experienced as a teen (and the notable absence of any sort of cleats in his piled collection of footwear); or something to do with Afghanistan and the Rangers … and the things he'd carried there and still carried with him now that he was home.

Erin had stopped herself from pointing out to him that the fucking shoes were pretty clearly a visible piece of his baggage he wasn't able to put down yet. That he might not ever be able to put down. Though, he'd have to get it under control after they had growing kids. Because four people's shoes, boots, winter boots, and she was sure sports gear clogging up the cramped up space between the garage door and the little hallway down to the bathroom downstairs would drive her fucking crazy. No matter how neatly Jay lined it all up – toe to toe and heel to heel. She'd go even more crazy if they ended up sitting just inside the door down there. You wouldn't be able to open the fucking door if people started piling shoes there, which was exactly why she knew that was going to be exactly where the kids would kick off their shoes and boots and coats.

An envitable – that, like pretty much anything else she mentioned to Hank about having kids or raising children, he passed off with a "get used to it". The looming storm of reality. That they would be living in a fucking tornado – more than they already were – for the next … eighteen years. That were nearly two-thirds of her thus far. A scary thought. That's a lot of years.

"Hey …," she did allow, though, as she spotted him bound up the steps.

He gave her a thin smile. It was tired. She could see that in his face too. "Hey …," he said. And, there, she could hear it in his voice too.

"I could smell this before I even got in the door," he smiled a bit more at her and came over to her at the stove top as she worked on stirring in the last bit and get it up to the final simmer.

"I'm practicing being a home-maker," she mumbled at him, as his arms came around her from behind – her and the babies. He'd been finding a lot of excuses to invade her space and cop a feel of the kids since she'd been home that trip. She was mostly tolerating. Though, sometimes she had to remind herself not to elbow him away.

He placed a kiss against the side of her head. "Careful," he warned. "Because if Sally Home-Maker means you'll be whipping up the jambalaya on a regular basis …"

And she did elbow him away at that. But again he only smiled, as he settled next his ass against the cupboard next to the stove and just gazed at her. He was doing that a lot too. It felt a little strange – just different – than the usual looks he gave her.

"You need help with anything?" he offered.

She shrugged and gave it another stir. "You want anything with it?"

"Hmm … corn bread," he teased with a fucking shit-eating grin.

"Oh, you can get right on that then," she said.

And the smile just got wider. "Want me to watch it for you?" he asked instead. "So you can sit down."

She shook her head. She wasn't that far gone. She could manage waiting for a pot to come to a simmer. And he knew better than to argue with her about it – just like he'd apparently known better than cracking some comment about if eating something that spicy was smart, or if she was really trying to induce premature labor. But she only ever really felt like eating so much with these kids in her anyway. They'd pretty much made constipation, gas, acid reflux, urinary urgency and nausea a daily staple for her. In some ways – if she could still be garuanteed she'd be getting healthy kids out of it – going into early labor didn't sound so bad. Though, this was … early.

Jay only gave a little nod and skirted around her to gaze into the fridge. "You want salad with it?"

"If you do," she said.

He just made a sound and asked instead, "Do you mind if I have a beer?"

She gave him a glance, as she gave it a final stir, and reached to reduce the temperature a bit. "That kind of tour?" she asked.

It got a sound. And a confirmation, in that he didn't wait for her answer about whether she cared if he drank in front of her or not (she didn't). He already had the bottle out and twisting the cap off.

"I'm likely going to have to go back in later," he said.

"That mean Hank will too?" she asked, as she attempted to nudge by him – but there really wasn't much slipping by anyone at this point. He had to step aside and close the fridge door for there to be room for her to pad over to the couch.

"Doubt it," he said and trailed after her. "Hailey's U.C.. In deep. Might just be my turn to do a short little role play. Adam and Atwater are in the van."

She gave him a small smile at that. "You really supposed to be telling me that?"

He shrugged. "Not likely," he allowed but sat at the opposite end of the couch and reached for her feet. Which she accepted, even though she knew her feet and ankles weren't exactly attractive right now. Nor were her legs – or any trimming and neatening above that. Which she hadn't made any apologies for. And flat out told him if he had a problem with the hair on her legs or the wild jungle growing to cover up whatever gapping hole the twins left if they decided to come out the natural way – it was going to be him who had to deal with it. By either just fucking dealing with it. Or helping. Because at this point, she couldn't reach around his children to deal with any sort of shaving or anything else. Nor did she feel energetic enough or sexy enough to care. And if she – or him - were horny enough, she really doubted some leg or pubic hair was going to be the deal breaker.

She'd pretty much expected him to drop it. But he'd instead looked at her with too much sincerity and said, "Is it bothering you? Because I can help."

She'd initially – and immediately – said no. Because she really hadn't expected him to offer. But maybe she should've. And it just felt … too needy. Or too much like she was somehow incapable. But then she had more time to think about it … and she'd let him. It was a … strange experience. But just add it to the list. And at least it kind of felt nice to get a bit of time with legs that didn't feel like they belonged to the abdominal snowman.

"Eth not here?" he asked, with the nod at the steps to the bedroom levels, as he started to work one-handed – beer in the other - at … doing that thing he did with her swollen and achy feet. The ones that Kim had thought it would be a good idea to tell her wouldn't ever quite shrink after the babies got here – not if she was like her sister who went up multiple shoe sizes during pregnancy and was still thirteen years later. Which would likely mean more shoes coming into their house, if that played true. Because there were some boots that she thought she might be just a ridiculous as Jay about in her ability to give up. They'd been through a lot with her. And she'd fully expected them to fit again after these babies got here.

"If he is, does that mean you're done?" she arced her eyebrow at him.

He gave her a little smile and massaged at them a bit more. "No," he allowed. "Just might mean we have to take a break between rounds if he comes down."

Erin allowed her own quiet smile at that. Eth could be so … bashful … about them showing any kind of physical affection toward each other. But she knew he didn't quite understand. His body and hormones weren't in a place that he quite got it yet. And he didn't see much of that at home. At all.

And they were at the point they were respectful of that. Before – this year a part – they might've … told Eth to deal to a point. Not that they ever did too much in front of him – or Hank. And really, Jay touching her feet shouldn't be some sort of disgusting PDA to a fourteen-year-old. But things were just different now. Since what those kids did to him. Some things that still got said to him at school, even though the school was supposed to put a stop to that and protect him. You never really could after something like that. After the memory – and evidence – of it was still floating around and available to the entire student body … and Internet. It was just a fucking game of Whack-A-Mole to try to … make it disappear for him.

And there'd been moments that week where she'd seen Ethan triggering. Some conversations she'd had with him. About school and the kids and Eva. She'd witnessed it again when Jay had met them at RIC to get his short little training session on how to get the functional electrical stim device in place for Eth. And they'd had to stop. Because Ethan there in his boxers and Jay even touching his leg and foot and she could just see it in him – and so could Jay. Jay ever having to help him get the electrodes and band in place – it just wasn't going to be an option. Not right now.

Right now it was like … he'd been so sick Ethan hadn't had to it in him to deal with what had happened on a mental or emotional level. And now he was so lonely – in so many ways – it was all just oozing off him. And that worried and scared Erin in whole different ways than this pregnancy and the babies did.

"He's not here," Erin provided, though. "I thought we should try to get a full evening to ourselves."

"Sounds good," Jay said.

Though, she wasn't sure how long or full it'd be if he was having to go and meet up with Upton to run some sort of play in whatever case she and whatever sort of cover she was working. Though, she stopped herself from asking more questions. Or stupid questions – like what his role for her U.C. was going to be in this case. Because 1) He shouldn't answer that or be put in a position like he felt like he had to. And 2) She knew it'd sound insecure. And she wasn't insecure about him and Upton being anything but partners at all. Though, Erin knew there was still part of her that was jealous he was someone else's partner – even the job kind. Another part of her was just jealous that he still got to do undercover and he still got to work Intelligence cases and he was still a Chicago cop. Even though parts of her really weren't. Parts of her were really glad for the change she'd had – and the time and space it'd given her to learn about herself and to grow her career and expertise and abilities. In areas she was really good at – even if she'd always excelled at the make-believe game that is U.C. too.

But that's what it was. High-stakes make-believe. And this – now – their life, their relationship – wasn't that anymore. And she'd felt that more and more this pregnancy. As she got closer to the due date. And maybe even more this week. With Jay. Being home. Seeing Ethan and Hank. And their house and getting the nursery ready and being back in Chicago. Being home. And just the way Jay kept on looking at her. Not his scared, worried, terrified looks that he tried to steady and hide. The looks like now. The calm ones. The happy ones. The ones where she could tell – could feel – that he was in love with her, still. That he was in love with this family they were waiting to have together. Already. Even if that meant romanticizing what the future might be like. They'd dealt with enough real life to know that it wouldn't work out the way they imagined it. But it was still sort of nice to think about and talk about. The little and big and random. The cabin and what sports the kids might play and Lake Geneva and taking them to Field and to see the Cubs and the Blackhawks and the zoo. What their interests might be. What they might be like. But you didn't know. You couldn't know. And that was strange. So strange to be growing these two strangers inside of you. And all the nervous anxiety that went with that – but still somehow felt … right. Right enough that she just wanted it to get here – even though they so weren't ready.

Prepared. They weren't ready but they were prepared. Another Jay line this week. And she supposed he'd give him that. He'd found something to take some solace in, and she supposed him feeling that way – or at least spouting it enough until he convinced himself (and her) – gave her some solace too.

"I actually need to tell you something," Erin said.

Jay looked at her, cocking that beer up to his lips. "You're married?" he deadpanned.

"Not quite," she managed – without a smile. "But we likely should talk about that too. Soon."

The beer got tipped up into his mouth again. "Voight giving you the 'honest woman' talk?"

She raised her eyebrow at him. "No," she pressed. "But that comment tells me a lot about where your head is at about it."

He looked at her. "I just still think it's not a conversation worth having until you're officially back. And, at this point, until the twins are here." He took another slow sip. "It's a lot easier to sign paperwork to get married than it is to deal with all the paperwork to get out of it, Erin."

She stared at him. "Because you still think you need an out."

He stared right back and settled into the couch. "That's not what I meant. It's just …" he shook his head. "Complicated."

She gestured at their kids. "Married or not, Jay – complicated."

He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and let out a loud exhale. "Look, Erin, you know I'm all in."

She gave her head a little shake and gave him a little shrug. "No, Jay, you aren't. You don't know what you are – because neither of us have a crystal ball. We don't know what's going to happen down the road. But I do know those wedding bands are still sitting in a very nice pine box – waiting for you to be ready to do something with them."

"I'm trying to be open-minded about this. You give me shit about being old fashioned."

"Jay," she sighed at him hard and pulled her feet back. "If there's something I would be more than okay with you being old fashioned about – it'd be you wanting these kids to be born into a two-parent family."

"They are being born into a two-parent family," he defended.

She cocked her eyebrow. "Not what I mean. You know that."

He exhaled. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

She let her own sigh slip from her lips and pulled her feet away, pushing herself a little more upright. She understood where he was coming from – but she also so didn't. Not at this point. Because it just really wasn't what she wanted. Not now. She wanted that family for her kids. She wanted that security – for all of them. That seal on all this being real. The safety net.

"I talked to Brian today," she allowed. "Cassidy."

Jay took a tug at his bottle. "Yeah? He riding you about the telecommuting?"

She gave her head a little shake. "I asked about the logistics of being able to extend it a couple weeks," she said. "Or months."

And the beer came down. "…Really …?"

And she just kept his eyes. "You might not be officially ready for us to … be us. But I'm officially ready to be home. It's where I should be. Where I need to be. And … whether they decide to grace us with their appearance … tonight … or six weeks from now … I think I'm about as officially ready as I'm going to manage to be to be a … a parent. A mom. So …" Erin shrugged. "I'm coming home."

And it just felt so good – right – to say it. Finally.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **I might still write a Erin/Ethan and an Erin/Hank chapter (as well as the promised Jay/Will scene) to come before this. But I decided to just do a short, easy one.**

 **I might start jumping ahead with bigger gaps/holes between scenes.**


	13. Saved ?

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

 **THIS IS THE SECOND CHAPTER POSTED TODAY. IT IS NEW MATERIAL. THIS CHAPTER IS SET PRIOR TO CHAPTER 12 — SOMETHING TO TALK ABOUT.**

 **TWO MORE CHAPTERS WERE POSTED THIS AFTERNOON — AHEAD OF THIS. PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU CHECK.**

 **ONE IS CROSS-POST FROM HEREAFTER FOR THOSE THAT DON'T READ THAT STORY.. The OTHER IS new material.**

 **TODAY'S CHAPTERS will be reordered in the next several days.**

 **EPISODE SPOILER ALERT: THIS CHAPTER IS SET AFTER S05E20.**

Alvin didn't know what he was looking at. Just always checking his back at this point like even this house call would be something else that would get held against him. Tampering or coercion. And maybe it was that. It was that when you got right down to it.

But really was just looking at the street. A lot of memories on this street. At Hank and Camille's house. Years of friendship. Partnership. Family, Hank would say. And there was a point to it. But it was also an old way of thinking. It didn't work that way so much anymore. Not in the job or in the city. Maybe not even between them. Not in the way it had way back when.

It was the past. Just like those memories were in the past. He never came around much anymore. Alvin couldn't really pinpoint exactly when it stopped. It just sort of phased out like these things did. Wife, kids, the job. And all those other parts of your past that you had between each other. Those demons and duties you couldn't outrun. The ones that had you watching your back and looking over your shoulder just like he was now. The ones that kept you up at night. All night.

Five years ago he would've said he hadn't slept right in the better part of a decade. Maybe more like the better part of a two. But it was worse now. Layered in different ways. Pain and memories and thoughts that had gotten a lot harder to numb with age and years and experience.

He wanted to say that the stop-bys petered out when Camille was gone. When Hank had a little kid in the hospital and all kinds of people looking at him. But the city had been a different place then. Eight-odd years ago now. And he – they – were able to exact his plan on how he wanted to deal with it differently. Without this kind of worry. But it'd still been another demon that had crawled up onto his back. Maybe the one that made him come around less then.

And then less again when Hank got himself sent to lock-up. And less again when Ethan came home sicker than before and it was just hard to look at. And less and less and less after Justin was gone. And then Lex was gone. And it wasn't that Alvin came around less. It was that what was even left of the person he'd been had been completely swallowed.

He hadn't always been a good friend to Hank. He did things for him. He went at things however Hank wanted to handle them. He had his back. He'd thought. But that wasn't being a good friend.

That was just taking marching orders from another guy who'd been broken over and over. And Al didn't know what that said about him as a man anymore. How long it'd been that way. Or if it'd always been that way. If that was who he was. The man he was and the way his morals swung. The things he couldn't do for himself but that he'd do for someone else. Things that maybe he shouldn't have.

Maybe if he'd been the voice of reason – of sense – like Hank had been when Lexi died and he wanted to go down that same hole that Hank had gone and got himself in – they wouldn't be in that hole together now.

They wouldn't be having to watch their backs. Coming over to his place wouldn't have to feel as foreign as it felt right then. Because he couldn't even say when the last time he was there. Ethan's Confirmation likely. Nearly a year. A year he'd checked out. Felt like a second and a fucking eternity all at once.

He turned as the door popped open. Just a crack. Hank should get a peep hole. But it wasn't Hank who was peering out at him. It was Ethan. He had to look down to catch the kid's eyes staring at him.

"Hey, Kid …," he offered.

It seemed like the kid had to think about it for a second before he opened the door. Almost like he really hadn't been around in long enough that Ethan wasn't too sure who he was. Or more likely, Hank had given him orders about opening the door for anyone.

He did ease it open, though. And it just rammed home how long it'd been since he'd had his eyes on the kid. This kid that he was supposed to be godfather to and Confirmation whatever to. Hank's kid that he'd been told he needed to look out for if it was Hank who ended up in bracelets for all this. But it'd been months since he'd even seen Ethan. Hank never let the kid even swing by District anymore. But that was likely smart. These days. But it'd made the gap between visit that much bigger. And somehow the kid always looked smaller – sicker – than he remembered him.

It was hard to believe Hank's youngest was a teenager now. His height and weight didn't give that away. He still looked like a little boy. A little boy with the scarred up face and the thick eyeglasses on a strap to keep them in place against his near missing ear. A kid on crutches and with the St. Ignatius uniform hanging off him in a way that just made it look even more like his health was declining by the minute.

"Hi …," was what he got. And that was it. He had this real caution and question around the statement. The kid's brow creased with it.

And he still didn't get invited in. But that was likely fair too.

Maybe it was best. He hadn't expected Ethan to be there at this time of morning. He'd thought – hoped – he'd be walking to school by now. That he'd be catching Hank in a few minutes between his family life and work life. But he wasn't. Clearly.

And that was another truth – him and Hank got so little time to talk about … things that weren't this, that weren't work – anymore, he didn't even know what Ethan's schedule really was. He only knew so much about where Hank's family life was had. Where Hank's kid – his god-child's - health was really at. What appointments or activities or obligations that Hank was somehow juggling in those moments and hours that he slipped out of the bullpen with "some things to take care of". It wasn't all work or chasing his own tail when he said that. The thing that Hank needed to be taking care of was standing right there.

"You going to let your godfather in," Hank rasped from just out of sight and Ethan eased the door open enough that time so that he could see him coming down the stairs at full speed.

Alvin wasn't sure Ethan had any intention of doing that. He actually felt like the kid was giving him a bit of a 'go away and fuck off' look. But maybe that was fair too. Ethan might be a bit of an odd duck – for more reasons than Al could count – but he was pretty astute. Whatever Hank was or wasn't (and Alvin knew it'd be a whole lot of wasn't) saying to him, the kid would know something was – had been for months – going on. You could feel it in the air. Ethan picked up on those things. He might not read faces so hot but the kid had a read on tension and energy. Emotional intelligence. Maybe more than anyone gave him much credit for.

But Hank didn't give Ethan a choice in the matter. That was likely pretty spot-on for Hank too. A lot of do as I say, not as I do. Maybe that'd been another harsh reality to settle into.

The door got pulled open. He got a "Hey, man," while he took a second to decide whether he should even do this. With the kid there. Took that beat while Hank's eyes were set on his kid.

Ethan got a grunt. He got Hank tugging at the buttons on his shirt, undoing a few on the kid after he'd shoved the textbook and frayed notebook he'd come down the stairs with into the kid's hands.

"Change this out," Hank graveled at the kid. Clear it was another thing not up for discussion. Al gazed at the kid's stripe down enough to realize he had a Field T on under his uniform shirt.

"But I'm goin' there after," Ethan whined back at his dad.

It just got another grunt. Another gesture. "Can see it through your shirt. Not going to play taxi service for you if you're landing yourself in the Breakfast Club."

That got a real over-animated huff. "I'm gonna put on the sweater. No one's even gonna be able to tell."

Bigger grunt. An end of discussion one. "Got physio before your Field hours. Not going to wear this all day. Go work up a sweat and then show up at your gig stinking like a hobo. Take the shirt off. Throw it and some civies in a go-bag. End of discussion."

Ethan's eyes put up a weak challenge – one that Alvin thought might be a little more vocal if he wasn't standing right there. But his dad just stared him right down and with a defeated huff, Ethan tried to nudge by for the stairs back to his room. Hank blocked that path too.

"Go put that in your bag first and get your mutt inside," he ordered. "Going to roll in five-to-ten."

That got another sigh but the kid trudged back through their front room – off to that workspace that Alvin didn't know anymore if it was still Camille's or if it was Hank's or if it'd just become a place to do the kid's homework.

"Sorry 'bout that," Hank said as the kid got away from them. "Morning battles pretty standard these days."

Alvin nodded. He remembered those. Puberty. Teen years. All of it had been a battle of the wills. Hard to win when you weren't father of the year. Though, sometimes you managed to convince them for a second or two you weren't so bad. He thought Hank's track record in that department might be better than his. He'd had three kids casting votes and ganging up against him, though. So maybe not.

He inched inside and held out the thermos. He wasn't even sure why he was pretending to bring it for Hank. It was for himself. To try to sober up a bit before landing in the bullpen. But it felt like the most socially appropriate olive branch he could manage.

"Thought he'd be headed in to school by now," he muttered.

Hank took the thing, giving it a glance. "Nah," he allowed. "Dropping him off at the curb is about the only way to make sure he at least steps through the front door these days."

And there was another reminder of just how … checked out he'd been. The fall-out of what those kids – that school, the Internet – had done to the kid. Above and beyond the health aspects of it. He hadn't been there for Hank. Or Ethan. And it was likely another time he should've been. But he'd stayed away. He'd respected Hank's space. And hadn't interjected any opinions on the whole thing – or how Hank dealt with it. And maybe he should've. Maybe that would've been the right thing to do. Not that it would've likely changed much of the now. Though maybe it would've. Butterfly wings and all that. Chaos theory. Ethan would like that.

"You bringing me coffee," Hank put to him.

"Yea …," he muttered. Could smell on Hank – through the whole house – that he'd already had his own. Likely at least two cups by that time of day. Black. Strong brewed. Al knew that was part of his routine. Hank was a guy with a lot of routines. To the point of predictability. Predictability that would usual run counter to anyone being the kind of cop Hank was for all the years he'd been a cop. But somehow he'd made it work. Up until then. All those years.

Alvin knew he didn't need to bring Hank coffee. He knew there would already be a hot pot in the kitchen.

"You realize the last time you brought me coffee, I think we were riding squad together," Hank said and started back to that kitchen. Like maybe he was actually going to pour it. More likely he'd pour it down the sink and actually give him something they both knew would taste better.

"Well, return to basics is good," Al said.

"That right …," was muttered ahead of him. But he wasn't following anymore.

He was staring at another reminder of how long it'd been since he'd been in that house. How long he'd known Hank. And Camille. And their kids. And of the promises and covenants made within that.

Hank's – Camille's – house was always one with photos in it. This careful catalogue of family life. That somehow through it all – years of the job – Hank had made family work for him in a different way than Al had ever been able to manage. He was made for it – or meant for it – in a different way than Al had ever been able to full wrap his head, or his life, around. No matter how much he'd tried. Maybe he hadn't tried enough. Or in the right kind of ways. Or maybe it just wasn't the kind of man he was or knew how to be. To be a father and a husband. When you were a veteran and a veteran cop. In Chicago.

Undercover – being someone else – had always just been easier than what society expected or needed out of you. What a wife or a daughter needed out of you. Living and moving from assignment to assignment. Crashing in whatever pad you're told to or give on whatever case you've let swallow up your life – it was easier than finding, making, maintaining a home.

He'd fucked that up repeatedly. In so many ways. And Hank hadn't. As much as he had – he also hadn't. This newly added – though it might've been there for months or the better part of a year or more – shrine just paid testament to that.

His wife. And his kids. And his grandkid. Lake trips and baseball games and family dinners and kiddos on Santa Claus' knee. High school graduations and police academy ceremonies. Family and friends and smiles and laughter just spilling off those overflowing shelves of memories.

"Didn't realize either one of us missed your burnt coffee," Hank grumbled at him from off in the kitchen.

But Alvin still wasn't looking at him. He was still looking at those shelves.

And in there – he saw himself. Literally, not figuratively. He'd been given a place near the front-and-center of Hank's family in this cluttered shrine. And his daughter. His daughter who'd grown up calling them Uncle Hank and Aunt Camille. His daughter who went to Erin like she was the older, cooler, wiser cousin who could talk some sort of sense to her. His daughter who'd played babysitter to Hank's youngest to earn pocket money for all her teen-aged waxing and waning whims. His daughter, who in some ways maybe felt more comfortable in knowing that the Voights were family than Alvin had ever let his child or his wife be. Because of his own pride, humiliation, ego and vanity about decisions made and not made and requests put forth and debts he'd always feel like he had to live up to. Even if Hank owed him a few too. The difference was that Hank didn't feel like he owed debts. Not his own – and not that his 'family' owed back to him. Alvin knew that wasn't how the guy operated.

Denny Woods said that Hank wouldn't return any favors. But that just showed a lack of understanding of the man.

Denny Woods said that Hank wasn't worth it. Any of it. But these pictures in front of him just proved again – that he was.

If he needed more confirmation that he'd made … the right choice. He'd come to his own decision – and his own action. Without marching orders or a need for approval or the thrill of doing something off the books for someone else. Because that's the kind of man he was.

And Hank was back. There next to him. Again. Staring at him staring at those pictures.

"What the hell is going on, Al?"

He gazed by him, watching Ethan clatter out the backdoor, barking at the family dog in a way that would've been taught to him by growing up with a dad who's bark who'd always been worse than his bite.

And as much as it wasn't enough time – it was also going to be his window of opportunity to get maybe two minutes without Hank's kid, or his work kids, eavesdropping.

"Terry from Narcotics called me last night," he allowed. "Ruben Gilberts possession charge was dropped. So …"

"Uhh …," Hank grunted. But it was the way his head dropped that gave him more away. The thoughts that Alvin knew were going through his head and the reality that he was letting himself accept again. To steady himself for. But that wasn't the plan.

"My plan didn't work," Al said. He'd run with it against Hank's advice on the matter. He'd been making plays on his own. Ones that he could tell – knew – Hank didn't approve of. Plays that wouldn't be the way Hank played the game.

But Hank's moves were being made so carefully and cautiously. This measured chess match he was having with Denny where it felt more like he was just trying to draw out the game than escape the evitable check-mate. And that Hank had already prepared himself for the loss. That he'd just been hoping it wouldn't be coming this soon. That there were still moves to make.

And maybe there were. Maybe Hank still had a few. For himself. And maybe for him. But Alvin saw the way to just end this now. To not prolong it anymore in a way that would just create more collateral damage.

This wasn't about Hank. As much as it was, it wasn't. Hank might've set it in motion. He'd made his choices. Maybe bad ones. Ones that maybe Al should've gotten in front of – stopped him like Hank had with Lexi – rather than just telling him he'd have his back however he wanted to play it.

So it wasn't just Hank who'd made his choices. It was him too. And Erin.

And now it was about more than that. It was about those kids in Intelligence who still had careers and lives ahead of them, who deserved some sort of chance to not be torn down by this. It was about the family Hank had left. Ethan and Erin and his grandson. About those two more grandkids he had on the way. And the lives and futures – and support – they deserved and needed too.

Hank wasn't the only one at fault. He wasn't the only one who'd made choices or taken action or made bad decisions. And he wasn't the one who made sense in the grand scheme of this reality to be taking the fucking fall.

It didn't make sense. Not in his own life. Not as a friend. And not to protect his family. Not to try to be the kind of man he wanted to hope he could be. Somehow. Before his life disappeared into even more of a blip on the screen.

It was time to get honest. It'd told him he was with him – until the end. A promise made. And for all the things Alvin was and he wasn't – he could say this, he knew he was a man of his word.

"Woods is protecting him," he said. "He wants to make sure he can testify against me."

"Alright," Hank whisped out. "So … we'll figure it out. Another way …"

Al shook his head. "Internal Affairs is going to show up at my door with an arrest warrant—"

"Al," Hank rasped, "I'm not going to let it that far."

Because that was the kind of man Hank was too. Alvin knew it. And likely Denny Woods knew it, because of his predictability. But he wasn't going to let Hank be predictable on this one. He couldn't be. Hank needed to take his beat to get his head on straight. To accept the true reality of all of this.

"Yes you are," Alvin pressed firmly at him. "For both our sakes, yes you are."

A sound of hostile recognition and defeat stuck in Hank's throat and they stared at each other. Hank wasn't one to be told what to do. Even when he knew what was being said was what was good for him. Sometimes he needed to learn to just – take the win. Do what was good for him. For him. Not others. Not the city. Not some past amends or debts or bribes or favors in the bank. Just for him. Without argument.

"Hank, let it go," he stressed to him. "Let it come."

He scoffed.

"In the end they won't have enough," he said.

He hoped. He believed it. He needed to. That he was good enough at all this that there wouldn't be enough. As much as that said about him as a man and a cop and a human being too. But he needed to believe he'd done this right. Though the fact it'd gotten this already said he hadn't. He'd already let Hank down – and Erin down. But that was more reason it needed to let it come. So there was another roadblock – an obstacle in the way of this truly reaching Hank's breaking point – Erin. And maybe the thought of watching another one of their daughter's go down was Al's breaking point too.

"Let it hit me," he said.

"Al—"

"I'll go through it," he contended quietly, gazing just passed Hank's shoulder at the clatter of the door as Ethan came back in through the kitchen, his dog at his heels. Hank glanced back too with a little sigh before meeting his eyes again. "I'll deal with the Hell."

"Alvin," Hank shook his head in his own lowered gravel, as he again strained his neck to see what Ethan was doing in that room. "I've been there—"

"I know," Alvin interrupted.

"And it almost killed me," he muttered at him. "Your age, a cop—"

"I know," Alvin said again, "and that's why it's got to be me. It's going to be me."

It wouldn't kill him. Or if it did it'd only be physical. He was already dead inside. For too long to the point that the thought of a physical release seemed like a release. At least he'd have some say in it. He'd get to see it coming. And he could let it come to an end – on his own terms – without having to be the one who cut the cord. A cord that he'd been able to cut for his daughter but one that he couldn't work up the courage to pull for himself. Because maybe that seemed too easy and like he hadn't been punished quite enough for it to be the acceptable exit route. The coward's exit.

Hank dropped his eyes again in quiet acknowledgement that Alvin knew he hadn't wanted to acknowledge. That Hank had spent months setting himself up to be prepared for this – to take this hit on his own. To be the savior or the martyr. To justify and rationalize him taking the fall for this. For his actions and inactions.

"I can't let you do that, Alvin. This is—"

"You can," he said. "And you will. You're already paying you penance, Hank. You're already doing your time. For eight years. With a lot more in front of you. I know that feeling. The difference is," he tilted his head toward the wall that barely separated him for that sick little boy. "He needs his father. And there's going to be three little kids who need their grandfather."

Hank sighed and looked at him.

"You told me you wanted me to look out for Ethan at the start of all this," Al said. "Ethan, your grandkids. Erin. That's what I'm doing, like I said."

"Know that's not what I mean," Hank muttered.

"But maybe it's how we both come out the other side. It's the way we both get saved here."

"Doesn't feel like much of anyone is getting saved," he said.

Alvin gave him a little shrug. "Well, you can't save everyone, Hank."

The man only stared at him. But Alvin could read those eyes. They'd looked at him back in the mirror every morning. So much so that he rarely looked in the mirror anymore.

"Okay?" he put to Hank.

It got a nod but not much of one. But Alvin still gave his shoulder a pat and passed by him – to see the kid in the next room and to get the reminder of why it had to be him. Why he was going to do this. Why it just made sense.

"I'm so sorry …" he heard Hank rasp under his breath and Al glanced back.

He wasn't sure the apology was meant for him because he wasn't sure he needed an apology. But also because it was now Hank who was staring at that shrine of moments and people and memories. Of his kids and his wife. Of the people he'd tried to save on his own and the efforts that had varying degrees of success and failure.

They met eyes. Hank's had glassed over.

"I wasn't there," Hank rasped like he was choking on it. "And …" He inhaled and exhaled hard and looked back at the photos. "I told Camille, promised Camille, I'd be there. For this to work …" he swiped his hand at the pictures. "And …"

Alvin looked at him. "I told Camille something too," he said. "More than once over the years. That I'd be there for you, look out for you. Have your back. Guess maybe I forgot too. … Or just finally figured out what she was asking me …"

And he slipped into the room, giving Ethan a weak smile as he did – as the kid looked at him with all the features of both his parents and a broken, sad, lonely little boy. One that Alvin wasn't going to play a part in seeing him get anymore of. He'd already done enough of that. Failed yet another family member.

But he'd barely stepped in when there was the crash of breaking wood and shattering glass. And Ethan stared in shock and horror.

"Dad …," he started and started for the door.

But Alvin could already hear the fight in Hank to hold in sobs – and to hold in the anger at himself that would lead to holes in the walls. So Alvin reached out and grabbed Ethan that time. Before he got too far.

"Let's just give your dad a minute," he said. And minute and then some. And it'd never be quite enough.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **THIS IS THE SECOND CHAPTER POSTED TODAY. IT IS NEW MATERIAL. THIS CHAPTER IS SET PRIOR TO CHAPTER 12 — SOMETHING TO TALK ABOUT.**

 **TWO MORE CHAPTERS WERE POSTED THIS AFTERNOON — AHEAD OF THIS. PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU CHECK.**

 **ONE IS CROSS-POST FROM HEREAFTER FOR THOSE THAT DON'T READ THAT STORY.. The OTHER IS new material.**

 **TODAY'S CHAPTERS will be reordered in the next several days.**


	14. Spitting It Out

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

 **THIS IS THE SECOND CHAPTER POSTED TODAY. IT IS NEW MATERIAL. THIS CHAPTER IS SET PRIOR TO CHAPTER 13 — CHURNING.**

 **TWO MORE CHAPTERS WERE BE POSTED THIS AFTERNOON — ONE AHEAD OF THIS AND ONE AFTER THIS PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU CHECK.**

 **ONE IS CROSS-POST FROM HEREAFTER FOR THOSE THAT DON'T READ THAT STORY.. The OTHER IS A CROSSPOST FROM HEREAFTER AS WELL (BUT IMPORTANT TO THIS STORY) and is set prior to chapter 12.**

 **TODAY'S CHAPTER will be reordered in the next several days.**

Erin could feel Jay stewing on the opposite side of the bed. The nervous energy and tension was just radiating off him. But even if she somehow had been able to miss that, there was the fact that he'd rolled over to his side – his back to her. And that just wasn't how he slept. At least not since she'd been pregnant. She'd gotten into the habit of rebuilding the pillow wall between them at night just to get some space. Because every time they saw each other during the pregnancy, he pretty much made it his mission to try to make up for any lost time with the babies. And he seemed to think that while she was trying to sleep was prime time to do that.

He was always up against her and his hand resting against them now. It did nothing for her sleep. She wasn't sure it did much for the babies' rest either. Though, she'd admit that sometimes it seemed like Jay was around the initial excitement it stirred out of them inside of her, usually seemed to give way to a bit of calm.

It was strange. But she supposed in a lot of ways it did that to her too. That she'd anticipate his visits to New York. That she'd be happy and excited and then just calm when he got there. That he usually had that affect on her – for a lot of the time she'd known him, this calming presence in her life – because he had her back. Over and over. Or at least he was a calming presence when he wasn't annoying her or outright pissing her off. And that happened more than often enough too. He was almost as talented as that as he was a being a calming presence – a back to be held again, a shoulder to lean on, a hand to reach down. Just a friend. A partner. So how fucking stubborn and annoying and obnoxious and frustrating and pushy – and depressing – he could be balanced out.

But in retrospect, she knew it was more likely that the twins were reacting to her energy and whatever bodily chemical and hormonal reactions that all caused more so than Jay being there. Though, she liked to think some of it was them learning to know and recognize him too. But that was likely hopeful thinking and a lot of projecting.

Her own thinking – which did almost as much for her sleep than being this pregnant, Jay invading her space or him laying there stewing on the opposite side of the bed. It was probably keeping her awake just as much. But she'd pretty much given up on getting anything that truly resembled sleep. There was no such thing as getting comfortable anymore. It didn't matter how many pillows she had on the bed.

She rolled onto her back from her own attempt at side sleeping and stretched her arm across the width of the bed. He was really huddled at the edge. Her fingers barely reached to tickle down his spine.

He jerked a bit. She knew she hadn't woke him. She knew he wasn't asleep. But he must've been surprised by the touch without warning. She felt him tense.

"What's going on over there?" she put to him. Calm, evenly. Giving him a moment or two or three to collect himself. That he always seemed to need when he got a touch he wasn't expecting. More when it was a touch he didn't like or didn't want. Though, she didn't think the little tickle down the spine was in that category. Not with where they were right now. She'd just taken him off guard. More proof he'd been tumbling around in his own thoughts likely too deeply.

He finally stirred a bit, though and rolled in her direction. Back onto his side. But facing her. The pillows still piled between them as he examined her. An examination anymore that always seemed to show he was much more interested in the mound that was their children than much of anything else. Most nights. And most nights – now – that was generally just fine. As long as his eyes eventually set on her rather than all the anxiousness he managed to project at their babies with that look of his.

"I'm sorry I've been U.C. so much the past few weeks," he muttered at her.

She gave a little shrug and reached to adjust a couple of the pillows and to roll up onto her side too. Though he had to grab at her a bit and help. Turtle on her back syndrome anymore. Sometimes she was impressed that was able to sit up in bed and haul herself up and down off the couch anymore. But she found his eyes after she was repositioned.

"That's the job, Jay," she said.

He sighed a little at that and rubbed at the bridge of his nose and his forehead like that was going to slow down his own thoughts.

"I might not be getting home much the next few days," he said. "Until this …" he shook his head.

The struggle of talking and not talking about their caseloads, their careers, their jobs. It was going to be something … they would likely struggle with for most of their relationship. That they were still trying to figure out how to manage and talk-around even a year into it. It was different when there was half a country between them. In the same house – these past few weeks – it was harder. Stranger. Frustrating in a new way that was requiring its own adjustment.

"I'm not a Badge Bunny," she allowed. "You're a cop. I might have a different job title now, but I still know the job. I remember the job. And I know that you going undercover and not being home every night of the week is going to be part of our deal."

"Maybe it shouldn't be," he said. He stared at her. His eyes were full of question – almost like he was asking permission.

Erin set her hand on his bicep. He didn't flinch that time. "Babe, right now, there's not a lot of options in front of you. You're going to have to ride it out. We need one income coming in. After we see how the chips fall – you're still feeling like you need a change, then … we'll figure it out. But, it should be for you—"

"Not anymore," he interrupted. "It's not just about me."

She kept his eyes. "Jay," she stressed firmly. "Lots of families are cop families – and they manage."

"With divorce and kids who either hate them or hardly know them."

"Being cops aren't prerequisites for any of that," she raised her eyebrow at him.

And that hand went back to scrubbing at his hairline and the bangs he didn't have like he wanted them brushed up and back even more – with no product beyond whatever grease and sweat and grim he'd collected that day already. And had already showered away – because he always seemed to head straight for the shower after a U.C. gig. Like he needed to get all of it – the case, the cover, the person he'd had to pretend to be, the people he'd had to associate with, the things he'd had to do, and the lies he'd had to tell – off of him. As soon as he got in the door. Before he got near her. Or their unborn kids now. To keep it away from them and out of this home life and family life they were trying to make.

"It's just ridiculous timing," he muttered. "The babies, you."

"Jay, I'm fine. They're fine. We have really exciting days being glorified data and document analysts staring at a computer screen all day. I literally move from the bed to the couch to the kitchen counter with some bathroom trips. Followed by playing taxi service and tutor to Ethan and Henry. You aren't missing much."

"Your move," he said flatly.

She shrugged. "I'm pretty stuck in the lease. Maybe our first family road trip will be to New York in the summer. Or we'll just have to suck it up. You and Will make the trip. Or I'll pay a mover."

"To pack up your place?" he put to her flatly.

"Or Jack," she suggested. "Benson and Cassidy's kid. He might be willing to pack it. I think he still comes this way to see that … it's complicated … on-again, off-again thing he has with the girl. Maybe he'd be willing to drive the boxes too. It's not like I had much there. Or anything I really need. We'll figure it out."

He stared at her and then sighed. "I just feel like …," the hand came down and gestured at her belly. The twins. "A ticking time bomb."

"Of your own making," she deadpanned at him.

"I'm going to be U.C. and they're going to decide to show."

His hand landed on the babies at that. But they didn't immediately stir. They actually hadn't been that active that day. It was a little strange. But also a relief. It was nice to get a day where she didn't feel like she was constantly arguing with them about keeping still and finding a position they could all be comfortable. Though, she also knew that was likely an argument she'd be having with them for … the rest of her life. She'd say eighteen. But she'd done a lot of self-reflecting the past months, and she'd come to realize that keeping still and calming down and just trying to be comfortable in the situation and her own skin was an argument … a discussion … that her and Hank still had a father-daughter into her thirties. And when you got down to it, a lot of it was the cause of the rift in her relationship with her family a year ago. And with Jay. So she could only expect so much out of her kids. Or maybe she should know exactly what to expect. The kind of battles she was going to have to fight. And it was likely going to be a bit of karma.

"My understanding of labor is admittedly not as PBS-educated as yours. But I think when they're going to show we'll have enough warning that you'll be there," she said and allowed her hand to move up to sit on his scruff. Maybe him being undercover for at least another few days was a good thing there. He was at the in-between stage right now. It was just scruff. She didn't mind it on him. But it wasn't as soft as it was to the touch when it filled in just a bit more. Another three or so days and it'd be that soft down that made him more kissable than he was. Not all scratchy. If the twins did decide to arrive they didn't need cuddles or kisses from a Daddy all scratchy against their newborn skin.

"Not if it's an emergency," he said. "Not if shit goes sideways with this bust and they can't pull me out quick. Hank shouldn't—"

And she interrupted him. "Hank needs to treat you as a subordinate under his command, you know that. That's part of the deal too."

He gazed at her. Some anger just flickered in his eyes, though. "Or he's got me on a U.C. assignment to keep me out of what he's got going on between him and Al and Woods."

Erin let out a slow sigh and shrugged at him. They both knew there was more than likely a lot of truth to that. And that it wasn't exactly part of Hank treating Jay as a subordinate. There was the personal – family – motivation in that too. Keeping him out of it – to try to protect her and him and these kids. The family that was left – and was being made. So that hopefully something was left of them as the chips kept falling into place faster and faster now. And despite Hank's spoken confidence that things were going to work out – even though he wasn't going to talk about the logistics or details – the fact that he'd had Jay undercover, out of the bullpen and away from the District and out of sight (and hear shot of everything going on) spoke volumes too.

"That too," she acknowledged. "But I really don't think anything is going to happen."

"Twin pregnancies are unpredictable," he interjected. Again. It'd become one of his favorite lines. "In the third trimester – all bets are off."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "Jay," she pressed evenly. "You were convinced they'd get here at twenty-nine weeks."

The reality was he was kind of catastrophizing this entire pregnancy. And, part of her understood. That he wasn't there with her – so he worried. Because he was an organizer and planner – and thrived in situations where he had control and his actions helped define the outcome – and that this didn't fit neatly into that. And when he felt out of control – he could get trigger-y. And, as much as he was keeping it together and rising to the occasion throughout this pregnancy, there'd been a lot of walking through minefields with him when they were in the same city together.

His PTSD was showing – even though she could see he was trying to manage it. And she knew … there were likely going to be a lot of triggers and memories and just things with becoming parents and raising kids – a son – that was going to bring up things for him. There was going to be stuff they'd all need to work through and figure out how to navigate and cope with as a family.

She was going to hope that some of it might be a bit easier after the twins got there. Because hopefully then he'd feel like he had some kind of control – as much as you could have with kids, which Erin was pretty sure even being a big sister to Ethan had taught her wasn't always as much as you'd like when it came to protecting and helping them. But right now – he could get into … a bit of a state (the kind he tried to mask) when it came to trying to control this pregnancy in ways that neither of them could control or predict.

"And then it was thirty-two weeks," she nodded at him. "We're at thirty-two. Passed it – and this week's scan was fine. I'm fine."

His hand moved and sat where they knew was Baby A's side of her womb. "He's not."

"Jay …," she sighed at him.

But he kept looking at her. She rub her through at his cheek bone. She knew he hadn't gotten to be there for this week's scan. Or the week before's. She could tell it was driving him crazy. Crazier.

"You saw the print-outs," she pressed gently. "Our daughter is a space hog. She's all stretched out. She's got him pushed up into a corner. Being the pushy, bossy sister – just like you've been saying for weeks. You can get down there and tell her off about it again, if you want. Or, I'm sure you can butt heads with her about it for years to come in a few more weeks."

He gave her a thin smile and shifted his eyes down to them again. "But he wants you to go in twice this week," he muttered. "Since he's still smaller …"

"One twin is almost always smaller," she parroted what she'd been told by the doctor.

"Does one twin always have placenta issues?" he muttered back.

She sighed at him.

"I should be there for the second one this week," he said.

She exhaled. "You'll have to take that up with your boss."

He kept her eyes. But didn't react to that. "You should ask about them doing a Doppler," he said. "For blood flow. The umbilical cord."

She raised an eyebrow. "Jay. We have a good OB. If he felt—"

"Did he say anything about steroids? In case they—"

"No," she pressed more firmly. "Because we are working on the expectation that these kids are going to be delivered at thirty-seven weeks before he has his Memorial Day getaway. And we are going to stick with …" she shook her head and rolled her eyes at herself for saying this, but "… visualizing that birth plan and that outcome. Okay?"

He stared at her. For a long, long time. But then he shifted in the bed. His head went down to rest on the roundness that was the babies. His ear landing near where their son's head should be too from the latest imaging. And he listened.

"I don't know …," he finally muttered. "Eth's pretty insistent that their coolness factor will increase ten-fold if they make their appearance on May the Fourth."

She allowed a small smile. "Well, let's hope the force isn't with that birth prediction."

Jay made a quite amused sound and listened a bit more. "It'd be a pretty decent birthday present."

Erin scratched her nails lightly against his scalp, threading her fingers through his short hair.

"Better than last years?" she teased.

She could feel him smile against her belly.

"I'm not sure preemies born that early constitute that great of birthday present," she said.

He made a sound but flashed her a grin. "But it would make for some pretty epic birthday parties in a few years."

"Unless they hate Star Wars," she suggested.

He let out a fake little gasp and shook his head, setting his ear back against them. "You aren't going to hate Star Wars, are you Luke and Liea?"

"No and no," Erin said to the name threading her fingers through his short hair. "And the Star Wars thing is fifty-fifty."

He gave her a little smile. "Does that mean I get one Star Wars buddy?"

She raised her eyebrow. She'd meant that genetically – they had a fifty percent chance of barely tolerating his and Eth's Star Wars thing as much as she did.

"Twenty-five percent chance?" she tried instead. Math wasn't her strong point. That's why Jay wasn't just Eth's go-to Star Wars buddy. He was his baby brother's go-to math buddy too.

But Jay just smiled a little again and didn't correct her or challenge the math. And went back to trying to hear what was going on on the inside of their twins little world and plane of existence. Caressing a bit at the bare, taunt skin on her belly. She knew he was searching for a little bulged he might be able to identify as a head or elbow or foot of heel – if they were still in the same position as they were at her earlier scan.

"Is all that really what you were over there spinning about?" she asked after giving him some time for his exploration.

He shifted his head – switched ears – so he could look up at her and listen at the same time.

"My U.C.'s got me in Canaryville a lot," he said flatly.

"Mmm …," she acknowledged carefully and rubbed her thumb against his temple.

He got quiet again. For another while. "It's made me think about my mom. Not on the job. Just …" he shock his head at himself but a thin smile grew across his face and his hand moved a bit.

Their boy just moved. She could feel it too. She gave Jay a smile too.

Apparently that small reassurance – that he was okay and in there and still kicking – was enough to calm Jay. He shifted again on his own and got back up closer to her – eye-to-eye – in bed. His hand resting on her hip and her side and her arm. Restlessly drawing circles with his thumb as he moved – because he wasn't done stewing and spinning.

"Not that Bridgeport is a big leap, but I've been feeling sort of … glad that my dad pushed that move on her," he finally said. "Got us out of Canaryville. It's just … still … so …"

"Yeah …," Erin acknowledged. White. Irish. Poor. Cracker. Insular. Hostile. Tough in all the worst ways. As much as it was a badge of honor for some, it also came with its own reputation and baggage. Like so many Chicago neighborhoods. And how you grew up and were brought up.

"Do you think I should tell my dad …?"

She arched her eyebrow. "That you're glad you moved to Bridgeport?" She knew that wasn't what he was asking. But he also needed to say it himself.

"About the pregnancy," he raised his eyebrow – with a touch of annoyance – right back at her.

"I'm sure Will's already done that," she said.

He exhaled and moved his hand back to the twins. "Should I talk to him before they get here?"

"I guess that depends on what you think you want out of it," Erin said.

He stared at her.

"Do you want him to be a part of their lives? Of our lives?" she asked directly.

The continued stare and the lack of answer said more than enough.

"And are you going to be upset if he doesn't want to be? Or he makes some comment that … is less than supportive?" When she really expected that he was more likely to be outright hurtful. He'd say something that would trigger Jay in a whole different way than this pregnancy had grated at him.

Jay shifted his eyes back to watch his hand feeling around the pregnancy bump – mound, hill, mountain – at this point.

"Hank's made a point to say his piece once per trimester," Jay muttered.

Erin sighed a little at that and stared beyond him for a moment. But then found his eyes.

"That's got more to do with where his head is at than you and your father," she said and moved back to find his eyes. "He's worried. And he's worried that if this plays out …" she shook her head and exhaled again. Because she wasn't going to say that part out loud. "That we won't have much help. But, Jay, Hank doesn't know any of the details around you and your dad no matter what he thinks he knows. And, I think we both know that you dad isn't going to be much help. Ever. Even if he says all the right things and doesn't just say something to upset you, do you really think he's going to show up?"

"Will's been showing up more than I thought."

"And you've been working on re-establishing your relationship with your brother for almost four years, Jay. And he's still not exactly Mr. Dependable. You still have to … bribe him to get help. Or he wants something. Or wants to vent at you."

"Isn't that family," he muttered.

She exhaled again. He had a point. And he didn't. She knew – they both knew – that the dynamic he had with his brother, and his dad, couldn't even be compared to what she had with Hank and Ethan and Justin and Olive and Henry. Not matter how strange and dysfunctional their own dynamics were.

"What kind of example am I setting for them if I don't have a relationship with my dad? If their grandfather lives in the same fucking city as us and we never see him?" he pressed.

"Jay …" she sighed out, trying to organize her thoughts quickly. On an argument they hadn't had yet because it was a topic he didn't want to talk about. And it was one that she'd gotten comfortable with not having over the course of this pregnancy. Over the course of Jay's therapy sessions. Because it became more and more apparent that including Patrick Halstead in their family was just going to make things that much harder for them as a family. "If Hank said—"

"I want to have a good relationship with my kids."

"And, you will," she pressed at him. "If you work at it. Because you aren't your father."

"But my dad's the fucking example I have," Jay said.

"No," Erin pressed again. "He's your father. He wasn't much of a dad. And you have all kinds of examples – men, friends, partners – in your life of what being a dad is or can be. So you go pick and choose, and figure it out. Same as me."

He rolled onto his back for a moment and stared at the ceiling. "Erin, you had Hank and Camille. And I see the way he is with you. Your relationship-"

She cut him off, rolling herself into his space that time and looking him in the eye. "And you know that Hank his has his flaws. He's made some fucking big mistakes. Our relationship isn't perfect. At all. And his relationship with Justin is – was - a train wreck for about the last twelve years of his life."

"But him and Eth—" he tried to argue but she pressed back in again.

"He has had to work his ass off to have the relationship with Ethan he does, Jay," she pressed. "Hank didn't know how to relate to him as a toddler and preschooler. At all. The dinosaur stuff and all the weird memorization thing. Him and Camille fought about it all the time. All the time. He was just getting his head around Ethan being Ethan and accepting that and trying harder to fucking relate to it when Camille got killed and Ethan's brain got scrambled. And then he went and sent him to boarding school and fucked up that relationship all over again in whole new ways. He's had to … be a completely different father than he was to me or Justin in a whole lot of ways to establish what he has with Ethan now. And it's likely about to be completely fucked up again any day now. So Hank and Ethan, me and Hank, Hank and Justin – they are not the epitome of what you should be as a father. Or what I want you to be as a father. I love you. I respect you. You're a good man. You're a good friend. A partner. You're a great quasi big brother to Ethan. You're a good brother to your older brother. And I know you're going to be able to apply all that to you being your own kind of dad whatever – despite – the kind of relationship you had with your father."

They stared at each other. His hand moving to rest on her hip. His forearm grazing at an angle across the twins. And she reached and touched his cheek again.

"What about lost time," he said.

"That's either a shrink line or a Hank line," she said.

He only exhaled. No comment.

"Okay," she allowed, "what does your therapist say?"

He barely shrugged at her. And she kept his eyes waiting for more – demanding it – but he stayed steady in his silence.

"Okay," she finally conceded with some annoyance. "Fine. Then lets say your dad does show up, is that something … someone … you really want in our lives? In our kids' lives?"

Nothing. Still. He didn't say anything. He just looked at her. With those eyes. Soft, quiet and hurt.

She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. "I haven't told Bunny," she said. "I'm not going to tell Bunny. I don't want Bunny anywhere near them. I don't even want her to know they exist."

"That's different," Jay pushed out. Finally.

Erin met his eyes firmly. "What your father did to you might have been different," she said. "But what he does—"

"I hardly see him."

She stared at him harder. "You don't see him. But I still see what he does to you. There's what he did, Jay. And there's what all that means he still does to you and your life. And I hate that. I hate what he does to you – now, today, still – just like you hate what Bunny does to me every time I let her back into my life. And, that's the same. And that hurt, upset, broken, confused, angry person you become whenever something comes up related to your father or you end up having to interact with him - that's not the dad I want our kids having to see on a regular basis. Because, Jay – even with the PTSD, what you've been through – that person he brings out in you, that's not you. It's not the man I know. Or love. Or want to be the DAD – not just the father – to my children. So if that's the person their grandfather is going to bring out – I don't think it's a great idea to entertain the possibility of him being a part of our lives – their lives – right now."

Quiet settled between them again. The gaping hole of honesty. There'd been a fucking lot of honesty anymore. Lately. These past few months. Uncomfortable honesty. Honesty that often crept up and blew up. And then fizzled out to this – silence. But at least it didn't usually feel uncomfortable. It just sat there between then. This quiet acknowledgement of what the other person said. That usually meant that it was either taken at face-value or that it needed to sit there between them for a while – with them alone – before they could talk about it again without that explosion of emotion. But at least they were talking. Communicating. And the blow-ups didn't seem as scary anymore. Because there wasn't the kind of blow back she might've expected before. It was like they hadn't found a deal-breaker yet no matter how … upset, hurt, frustrated … they made each other. Or that all those feelings were worth it – for the other feelings it meant they got to have in their life. For the other person. Or for these two little people they'd created between them and both seemed to want to have the chance to know. And to give them something different – better – than what they'd had as little kids.

"Not ideal …," he near whispered.

"It's not," Erin acknowledged quietly too. "But we don't excel at ideal situations anyway. We excel at 'life's not fair'."

"Don't I know it," he muttered.

"You want to spit out whatever you're trying to spit out? So we can both maybe manage some sleep."

"Maybe I just … this past month, past few weeks on U.C. … I just wish we had more time to work out some of these issues."

She shrugged a little. "We do," she said. "We've got as much time to work it all out as we're willing to give it. All in, right?"

He allowed a thin-lipped smile. But it was still more than a little wounded. And his hand moved and settled on her again. And Baby A again gave him a little kick. An order to calm down and get his head on straight. Or to just not worry so fucking much, Daddy.

Jay smiled a bit at that sensation and then looked back to her eyes.

Erin arched her eyebrow his way. "You going to listen to him?" Jay rolled his eyes a little. "That mean you're done."

"Not quite," he said, keeping his hand in place and staring at it for a beat. "Can I name him?" he asked carefully. "My son? Can I name him?"

She let that sit in a silence for a long moment too. "Not Luke," she finally managed. "Even if Ethan gets his birth-day wish."

"Yoda?" Jay suggested with a grin.

"No," she told him firmly – despite the tease.

But he just smiled more that it even got a reaction and leaned in for a kiss. A linger one. And then he was done. For now. Maybe if he'd managed to put in that request – somewhat reasonable request, even though it asked her to release some control and decision in this pregnancy – the conversation might've been done long before it started. But at least he was shutting up now. For now. And she could feel that smile of his against her lips. And that said more than the conversation sometimes too.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **THIS IS THE SECOND CHAPTER POSTED TODAY. IT IS NEW MATERIAL. THIS CHAPTER IS SET PRIOR TO CHAPTER 13 — CHURNING.**

 **TWO MORE CHAPTERS WERE BE POSTED THIS AFTERNOON — ONE AHEAD OF THIS AND ONE AFTER THIS PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU CHECK.**

 **ONE IS CROSS-POST FROM HEREAFTER FOR THOSE THAT DON'T READ THAT STORY.. The OTHER IS A CROSSPOST FROM HEREAFTER AS WELL (BUT IMPORTANT TO THIS STORY) and is set prior to chapter 12.**

 **TODAY'S CHAPTER will be reordered in the next several days.**

 **Your readership, reviews, comments and feedback are appreciated.**


	15. Churning

**Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted), Hereafter, and Onward Thankfully. This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

Erin watched carefully as Ethan came over to her. It was so strange to see him without crutches. But he was trying lately. It wasn't like he was running any races – and he could really propel himself a whole lot faster with how he'd learned to move when the crutches were hanging off his forearms – but he was managing to wobble and stagger around as he got more comfortable with the functional stim device. He only really put up with it for a few hours at a time. But he also really wasn't up to being on his feet and doing anything for more than a couple hours at a time anyway. Not if he didn't want to be laid up in bed paying for it for the rest of the day and then some.

She was proud of him. He was gritting his teeth and toughing this out. She knew he had his own motivations and reasoning. And she knew that Eth being the 'tough guy' – in such a different way than his dad or his brother – was just part of his personality. But she was still proud of him for doing it. For being that guy. Despite everything.

Though, she was also still watching him carefully and preparing herself to jump and catch him if she needed to. As quickly as she could really move to jump and catch him these days. But at least being back in the city meant she could jump and catch him in other ways. If she needed to. When she needed to. And that need felt like it was floating right there in the air pretty heavily right now.

She gave him a small smile as he managed to get over to the picnic table up on the top of Adler while her baby brother tried to play the caretaker to her. Working on the over-protective male thing that had likely been nurtured into him by his father – and his older brother. And maybe spending a little too much time around Jay over the past few years too. But she let him that day. Because she knew it made him feel good about himself – and his contribution toward helping out during the pregnancy. Showing he cared. Because with him it was more cute than condescending. Because she really didn't mind the excuse to sit down for a few minutes – ever anymore. And because it gave her a bit of time to take in this view. One of the best in Chicago. Something Hank always said.

An outlet to look at their city. A spit of land – that even though she'd never made it into Adler before – that she knew Hank still got out to a few times a year. Maybe more than a year because meeting connects and CIs out on Northerly Island was a good way to avoid too many lookie-loos most days and times of the year. A place with a visual, looming reminder of what – who – you were actually working for there in the background. A place that she wouldn't be surprised if he'd been out on meeting up with someone about all kinds of something that week. But a place – a view – she'd really prefer to associated with growing up in the Voights' house and it being the favorite spot to drag them for Fourth of July fireworks – without the crowds and so you could see the city all lit up and twinkling nearly as spectacularly as the pyrotechnics lit up the sky.

"Wow, fancy," she teased Eth as he set down the tray of food. The one that he hadn't just insisted on standing in line for – but for paying for. But wasn't so fancy – as it was over-priced cafeteria food masquerading as fancy with the price-tag that was trying to get you to buy into that statement.

Eth, though, only shrugged at her as he worked at maneuvering himself to get his leg to cooperate in listening enough to swing over the bench so he could sit facing her. "You're supposed to be eating all healthy now," he provided. "'Cuz the babies."

"Mmm …," Erin acknowledged. Making a mental note to grill Jay and Hank on exactly who was spouting that at him. Or if it was Olive. She gestured at the plate of fries on the tray. "And these are definitely super fancy and super healthy, Eth."

He squinted at her. "Well … you like fries."

She allowed him a little smile and took one, biting just the tip. "As long as they aren't McDonald's."

"Well, they're Galileo's," he put back to her still looking a little confused and defensive.

She smiled at him and shook her head. "I know. They're fine, Eth. They're good." And they likely should be. He likely spent a ridiculous amount on them. She gestured at the rest of the food. "Sharing or is one of these yours?"

He shrugged. "Whatever."

She eyed him. He gave her a whole lot of 'whatever' lately. She was still deciding how much of it was him trying to be accommodating as part of his supportive efforts and how much of it was him just being a teen-ager versus it being more telling about his mental and emotional state these days. This was going through a bit of a crash course in re-adjusting herself and reacclimatizing herself to being a big sister – who got to see her little brother multiple times a week again and play a role in his life. While balancing against how much both their lives had changed. How much both of them had changed. And how much that meant their relationship was very different than before. New, different – interesting – dynamics.

Ones that she was fearful would be shifting again. Soon. And not just because of the twins arriving. She wished it was that "simple".

But she wasn't going to argue with him about his declared indifference. Whatever about if he wanted to share or have the hummus and veggie plate or the Italian chopped salad (loaded down with so much meat and provolone that gave away the fact that Hank likely had had him over at Adler at some point and treated him to lunch – and more than obviously shared because Hank wasn't one to order salad but she was sure he would've picked all the genoa out of this monstrosity that she wasn't sure she'd call 'healthy' or pregnancy friendly) all to himself wasn't a point of contention she was willing to have with Eth in getting him to define his wants and needs and feelings. And she knew turning every 'whatever' out of him into that kind of discussion would just push him away anyway. That also wasn't – couldn't be – the objective or outcome these days.

So she just took a piece of zucchini and trailed it through the hummus and waited for him to follow suit.

"Are you going to be OK sitting out here?" she asked.

Fucking Chicago. Or just fucking climate change. But the weather since she'd been back in the city for barely a month had rotated between just about every season. She'd returned in the spring – but it was still winter in Chicago and not just spring-winter in Chicago – cold and grey. No. Frost, snow dusting, freezing rain. Only for it to jump right up to beautiful late spring weather – sunshine and short sleeves. For it to plummet back to rain and grey – of a typical early spring expectation. To go "fooled ya" and for them to get dumped on with snow and a fucking ice storm. To then jump to August temperatures. It was May 2nd and it was hovering around 90 degrees.

"There's the breeze," Eth said. "It's not so bad." But then his eyes landed on her with concern. "Why? Are you? Do the babies not like it?"

She gave him a little smile. "They're OK," she said. Maybe a little lie. She was definitely feeling a little uncomfortable that day. But that was the usual anymore. Though, maybe it was a bit more than usual. But she'd been on her feet a bit. And it was so hot and too still – at least at the townhouse. Eth was right, sitting right on the lake there was more of a breeze here. And, besides she did want to enjoy this weather while it lasted because if the forecasters were right they'd only get a couple days of it before everything flipped again. Chicago. If you don't like the weather – wait a minute. It'll be something else. Guaranteed. Though, she wasn't sure the kids were too thrilled about the heat – likely a bad omen for having summer babies. They were moving around almost too much that day. But she was trying to grin and bear it too. So "I'm OK," she assured Eth instead.

Eth gave her this little nod. A little sound. So much like his dad. She'd definitely noticed that Ethan had become very much Hank – and Hank's – in the near year she'd been gone. She understood why but she had concerns about the good and bad that that kind of nature and nurturing entailed too.

"I like it up here …," Ethan said after a while, staring more at the water than the cityscape, she thought. "It's view and food is better than Field."

"But it's a bit of a walk," Erin provided.

He shrugged a little. "Yea. But Dad says I shouldn't spend all my time at Field. Like learn about the other museums and how they operate and stuff. Keeping options open and all that."

"Smart …," she allowed.

And he just gave her that little nod and made that little sound again. And he picked a bit more at the food. She suspected he was about as hungry – or lacking in an appetite – as she was these days. Ethan definitely favored a lot of soft foods and liquid foods and drinks anymore. She'd more than noted that.

"Thanks for signing me out," he mumbled.

And it was her to turn to shrug. "Weather like this, pretty sure a lot of the student body would be playing Ferris Bueller after their lunch period."

"Yea …," Ethan acknowledged. "But won't you get in trouble with work?"

And that was her turn to make a sound. Though, she doubted it sounded much like Hank's. Just her own frustration with the reality of the situation. But like Hank said – like life had taught her a whole lot – you don't get to have your cake and eat it too. Right now that meant, if she wanted to start a family – have these kids – than … she'd be playing house – real house – for a while. And her career would be second fiddle. It was going to need a rebound and recovery period – just like every other relationship in her life that she'd left behind in Chicago. And right now – well, that recovery period wasn't going to happen for a while. Because she wasn't realistically available.

"I actually doubt anyone in the New York office will notice," she said, but reached and tilted her phone up to squint through the glare from the natural light on the screen. But there weren't any missed anything there. And there hadn't been when she checked her email while waiting for E to get the food either. Besides, she knew that anyone would call her if there was some sort of panic about the lack of paperwork flow she was producing that afternoon.

"Besides," Erin offered, giving him a small little kick under the table, "Getting to enjoy the weather and time with you – not going to pass that up. And seeing what you're up to at Field. I'm really proud of you, Eth."

He gave her a shy smile. It was still like he didn't entirely believe her when she gave him any sort of compliment anymore.

"Your Dad is really proud of you too, Eth," she offered. "All the opportunities you make for yourself. The kinds of things you pursue."

And the shy smile gave way and turned into a shrug that was more on the side of indifferent than it was shy.

"I know …," he acknowledged and fiddled around with the a red pepper – dredging it through the hummus but not eating it. "I just really needed to get outta there today. You know …," he muttered. "Dad wasn't answering his phone."

She stared at him. "I think your dad is working something pretty big this week," she offered. "Jay's been working long hours too. I haven't seen him much."

"Dad always works a lot now," Ethan said.

"That's just your dad, Ethan," she said. "And the job."

And he looked her in the eye. "There's lots of stuff I don't remember. And I know I was little. But I remember when J got in trouble Dad started 'working' all the time and at night a lot. All night. And then him and Justin were both in trouble."

She stared at him again and sat back a bit in her chair. "Ethan, your dad has a job that isn't nine-to-five. Okay? You know that. Criminals don't work bankers hours. He's working a case right now—"

"All winter," Ethan pressed at her flatly.

"Ethan—" she started but he cut her off.

"Uncle Alvin is in the news," Ethan said. "Everyone says. And they all remember he was my sponsor at Confirmation. And they're all saying that my spiritual guide or whatever is a murderer."

"Ethan, just because someone is charged with something doesn't mean they did it," she said. "You know Al. You know—"

"I know he didn't do it," Ethan said so matter-of-factly. "Or at least not alone."

She stared at him again. Hard. "Meaning." And there. She sounded like Hank too.

He nibbled on a fry. And stared at the water. "That guy. The guy who's calling Dad's phone all the time. I met him. Or saw him. Or whatever."

"Okay …," Erin allowed but her mind was churning. Apparently it was churning so fast the babies could feel it because she felt a pain and movement like they were churning too. She set her hand against the belly.

"He said he was Dad's partner. A long time ago."

"He was …," Erin acknowledged.

"He said I look just like Dad," Ethan mumbled. "Not like Mom."

"You do," Erin acknowledged. "You have pieces of both of them."

His eyes shifted back to her. "He asked me about the day Justin died," he said. "Trudy heard and made him leave me alone."

"Okay," Erin said but she felt the babies – her stomach – churning more. "That's good. He has no right to be talking to you and asking you about that."

"I didn't tell him anything," Ethan said more than a little defensively.

Erin forced herself to shrug. "Okay," she allowed. "But … there's not much to say that he can't read in the news or police file."

His eyes stayed on her. "He asked where I was the night Justin died."

And her eyes stayed on him. She didn't say anything but she tried to communicate with him that it wasn't something they should talk about out loud.

"I didn't say anything," he pressed. "But I remember that too. I know you took me to Jay's. And I know you and Dad weren't there. And I know you were really mad at each other when you came home and you didn't want me to go with Dad. And I know how Dad can be. When he loses his temper."

Erin leaned forward – her back and the twins protested again, contracting – but she still met her brother's eyes. Hard. "And that's all we're going to say about that. Now and always, Ethan. And only to each other."

His eyes stayed on her for a long beat. They flickered with anger and pain and sadness. A ripple of this fire and water streaking through them until he looked away.

"Eva's dad doesn't want her hanging around me right now," he said. "Not when my sponsor is that kinda Chicago cop."

"I'm sorry to hear that …," Erin allowed.

Ethan made a little sound and a little nod. His dad's. "I'm not going to forgive him if he just leaves me again," he said so flatly he sounded like all the life had sucked out of him.

"Ethan …" she shook her head. "Being mad at your dad for something you don't know anything about – and neither does the media reporting all this shit …"

"He promised," was all he said though and just reached to put another fry in his mouth.

And Erin knew all about Hank's promises – what they were worth and what they weren't. And she didn't know what to say to that. So she just rested her hand against the bump that was supposed to be her future. And her family's future. And she tried to calm them as much as she tried to steady herself. But this wasn't something that could be masked by just putting your hands in your pocket and waiting for it to pass.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **I wanted to do more with this. But I'm sort of stripping things down big time right now.**

 **I'm not sure if I'll leave this up. But there it is for now.**

 **The next couple chapters will likely be riffs on the latest CPD episode. I'm not sure if I'll be posting them here or in Hereafter. Maybe both since they're important.**


	16. Unexpected Caller

**Title: Hereafter**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

 **EPISODE SPOILER ALERT: THIS CHAPTER IS SET WITHIN S05E21 — ALLEGIANCE.**

 **THIS IS A CROSS-POST FROM HEREAFTER FOR THOSE THAT DON'T READ THAT STORY. TWO MORE CHAPTERS WILL BE POSTED THIS AFTERNOON — PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU CHECK. ONE IS NEW (BUT SET PRIOR TO CHAPTER 13). The OTHER IS A CROSSPOST FROM HEREAFTER AS WELL (BUT IMPORTANT TO THIS STORY) and is set prior to chapter 12. They will be reordered in the next several days.**

Hank watched his rearview mirror as the van came around the corner and headed for the lot.

"Okay, got Halstead arriving with Dexter," he rasped into the radio. "Just standby."

He leaned back – kept out of site and just taking a breath from the weight of fucking life and the world continuing to turn all around him. Kept his eyes on the van – watching it go by. Watching out for where Ruzek and Atwater were in the bushes. The thick of it. Making sure they were staying out of sight too – though he could see them. But hoped no one else had eyes on them.

"No eyes," Atwater's voice came across the radio back at him. "Moving for a better position."

He grunted acknowledgment. Call received.

"We're in position in the back," Burgess came on.

In the back. But saw how she was spinning that week. Painted all over her. Wasn't sure she'd end up having his back. Al's maybe but there'd be some back stabbing that had to happen for her to do that. For whatever it was she thought she was accomplishing.

Coming at him from all sides right now. That's the thing with bringing on the young kids. Means you get to groom them into the kind of cops you want them to be. But sometimes that bit you in the ass too. Ended up with their own grey areas. Their own convictions and morals and justifications and codes. Codes with each other rather than them old timers. Times had changed.

Had to trust that he could trust them. He'd brought them up. And upstairs. And if it did spin out – they swayed, flipped, turned – in the wind and on Denny's whim, also had to trust it was because of what they stood for too. All good kids. Good police. And had their own things they had to stand up and fight for too. They would be trying to do right as much as he was. As Al was.

But they snapped at him. He'd bite back too. Eventually.

Life in this city – the job they did – meant you eventually had something on everyone and something to hold over everyone. Had to remember that too.

His personal phone vibrated against his ass. Again. Had been doing that a lot. Could see E had been calling him in the morning. But no call from the school – so knew it could wait. Had seen texts ping in from the kid and from Erin. And just fucking stopped looking. Didn't need that today.

Whole lot of real life going on that didn't include – couldn't include – his kids. They were just going to have to deal. For now. Now so it didn't turn into fucking 'from now on'.

But that time there'd been a series of pings. The little buzzes of incoming texts against his ass. A bunch one after the other the whole drive over and as they got all established in their spots.

"Sarge," Upton said next to him.

Sitting in that seat that usually got reserved for Al. Seat that had been reserved for his girl if Al didn't want it for a few years there. And didn't feel too right her sitting there now. But there she was. Giving him all kinds of looks that week too. She'd been another one he'd thought might be a liability in all this. Kind of cop they needed in Intelligence these days. Appearances with the Ivory Tower. Didn't always agree with her but times he did. Though wasn't sure she was the kind of cop he needed right now. Not with the kind of higher morals she kept. The pedestal she'd built for herself in trying to stay in the White Shirts' graces. Thought Trudy had done some this past year to keep her in line. For her to understand how – if not the Chicago Police worked anymore, just how the fuck the 21st and Intelligent did. How he did. How she should. And that was keeping her mouth shut. About a whole lot. And right now too. Because her voice was sounding like about as much as the pain-in-the-ass buzz that was vibrating in his ass.

"This Olinsky thing," her voice just kept buzzing. Nails on a chalkboard at this point. "I can't imagine how hard it must be."

He gave her a glance too. This girl definitely didn't know when to shut up and the place she was meant to stand in – sit in. But that had been from the get. Let her on the team anyway. Just like Halstead and Ruzek and Burgess. Reasons he shouldn't have and reasons he did. And now all that reasoning was being put to the test. Maybe more it was testing him.

Falling off your own kids' pedestal is one thing. He knew that feeling. Was feeling it happening again with Magoo. But coming to the realization lately anymore that despite any of their misgivings and head-butting all these kids he worked with had hoisted him up onto some kind of pedestal too. One that he could feel himself teetering real good in getting ready to take a hard tumble from it.

He was doing what Al told him to do. For his family. For Magoo. For his grandbabies. To save them both. Doing what should … work. What made sense for the way the real Chicago they used to exist in should operate. But really didn't know anymore. Following the code. Starting to feel like ancient history. And having any kind of follow through – to live up to all these expectations these kids around you had created for you despite who you were and what they'd seen, how they saw you and through you anyway to the person you were underneath and the man and cop you wanted to be and wanted them to be and live up to too. Well, that was turning into a whole other story.

This was Alvin. Not just a friend. A brother. Family. A good fucking man. Better than him in a lot of ways despite his own failings too.

So he just sighed at Upton. Sighed hard. Hissed it out. Because he really needed her to shut up. To not lay it on thicker. He felt it enough. Didn't need her to add to it.

"So if you need something," she buzzed in his ear again.

Again as his phone fucking blew up. Vibrating all the fuck over the place as it rang against his ass that time.

Really fucking sighed at that, lifting his ass check to retrieve it and looking at her.

"I just need you to do your job, Hailey," he graveled. "That's all." And wasn't looking at her anymore. Looking at the phone. Magoo. "What?" he barked into it, his eyes going back out the windshield to watch. Worse fucking time. His kids and their fucking timing.

Kid's voice was all over the place.

"Yea. I can see the two of you have been working on blowing up my phone," he grunted. "This numbers for emergencies. So you can't fucking be doing that."

And there he went again. Hailey there giving him side-eye. Thinking she could eavesdrop and keep an eye on this op. Neither of them should be doing that. All eyes needed to be forward right now. Didn't need this distraction.

"Jay's a little tied up, Ethan," he rasped. "Can tell her he should be home by dinner."

His eyes drifted back to the rear view. Lifted up his radio.

"Our license is arriving," he graveled there. "Wait for my signal."

And back to his phone – his son. "E. Got to go now."

But then the panic spiked in his ear. Words he didn't want to hear. Didn't need to fucking hear. Not right now. Because not only did the world just keep turning around with the sun coming up each and every morning whether you opened your eyes to see it or not – sure enough when it rained, it also poured.

"How long's she been in there?" he asked – eyes front. He needed to get off the phone. But also couldn't. Had too many situations he needed to get out of and get to. And one fucking one he needed to get Jay out of to get to another too.

He grunted at his son's staggered response.

"What'd she say before going in?"

And more babbling. Eyes forward. Watching this unfold. Eyes on Jay. Least he wasn't distracted. Head there. Head where it needed to be.

Unlike his. Let all this pile up. Spill over. And now it was all tipping over at once.

"And how'd she seem? At lunch? In the museum?"

Like he could really expect a fucking fourteen-year-old boy to have made any kind of real observations that went beyond his own nose. But E surprised him. E did that a lot. He had an answer. More staggered and panicked. Kind of contradictory. But an answer.

She'd seemed okay. She looked distracted. She kept touching at the babies and holding at her back. That she hadn't eaten much. That she looked uncomfortable. That she wanted to sit down a lot. That she went to the bathroom quick. Hadn't come out. That E thought something was wrong.

Could be nothing. Could be something. Could be a whole lot of something from the gleaning he was getting from the kid. From the glance at the phone to see the texts from Erin. All but the first couple letting him know that she was pulling E out of school for the afternoon – they all were asking him to let Jay know she needed him to get in touch ASAP. Asking if he'd been able to touch base with Jay.

He should've been checking that buzzing pain in the ass more regularly. She should've fucking called his work phone. The bullpen phone. The desk phone. Trudy. Kim. Someone.

She hadn't. For if she had – they'd all be focused elsewhere that day. Here on this. Out there on Al.

And here their life – his life, his family – was spinning and unfolding in front of him. Again all while he wasn't looking. While he should've been looking. So he didn't miss it. Miss the signs. Just like he'd missed the signs so many fucking times before. Signs that should've helped him avoid getting into all the different layers of this fucking mess.

"Okay, E," he rasped. "Me and Jay, neither of us, can come get you right now. So what you're going to do is get off the phone. Call an ambulance for your sister."

And there was that panic again.

"Ethan," he barked. "Erin's not driving. You're going to call dispatch. You're going to get a bus to head over there. You're going to haul ass over to the medic station and have someone go into the john and check on her. And you're going to stay with your sister until Jay can get over to the hospital."

Upton was still watching. Still eavesdropping. But still running the op.

"Sarge, we've got a blue van approaching," she to near whispered into his free ear.

He looked up into the rearview again. There it was.

"Hold on," he gave E, who was still in a fucking panicked motor in his ear. Anxiety and stress that might push him over an edge again. That his central nervous system wasn't set up to cope with anymore. Need him to calm down. Needed him to be there for his sister right now – like all those times she'd been there for him. But had to take the phone away from his ear for a moment – from that noise - and raise up the radio.

"Van is approaching," he said into it. "Blue. We wait for it to park. Move in on my signal."

And the phone returned to his ear. "Ethan," he pressed. "You need to take a couple deep breaths and then just do this. Call 911. Get the museum medic. Check on your sister."

And then it was all blowing up in front of him. Gun out. Jay in the fucking middle of it. When he was really about to be in the fucking middle of it soon. Didn't need a gun in the mix right that instant. But there it was.

"We've got a gun," Ruzek was rattling through the radio in his own steady urgency. "Gun, gun, gun."

"Move in," Hank ordered into the radio. "Now."

Hand headed to the clutch, foot to the pedal. And final barked demand to his son.

"Ethan," he ordered even harder than he did to these kids – cops – on the job. "You've got to listen to me. Do as your told. We'll be there soon. I promise."

And even though he heard more panicked tones coming out of his boy's mouth – he couldn't listen anymore. He hung up. He dropped the phone. And he hit the gas.

Didn't matter what kind of shitty clunker life had them in – him in – right now. Time to move. Quick. He had a job to do – to act on – on every front. It was real now. Here now. Action time.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **THIS IS A CROSS-POST FROM HEREAFTER FOR THOSE THAT DON'T READ THAT STORY. TWO MORE CHAPTERS WILL BE POSTED THIS AFTERNOON — PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU CHECK.**

 **ONE IS NEW (BUT SET PRIOR TO CHAPTER 13 - CHURNING). The OTHER IS A CROSSPOST FROM HEREAFTER AS WELL (BUT IMPORTANT TO THIS STORY) and is set prior to chapter 12 - SOMETHING TO TALK ABOUT. They will be reordered in the next several days.**

 **Trying to keep chapters shorter and either more action focused or dialogue heavy right now to move things along a bit.**

 **The next couple chapters might end up being cross posted.**


	17. Notice

So I've been informed that adding three chapters yesterday was confusing.

So here's the deal:

CHAPTER 15 - SPITTING IT OUT — is entirely new content to this story. It is out of order, though. When it is reordered, this chapter will occur after Chapter 12 and prior to Chapter 13.

CHAPTER 14 — UNEXPECTED CALLER — is a new chapter to this story and a continuation of Chapter 13 — Churning. It was previously posted in Hereafter, as it fit there as well as a riff on an episode from S5. You DO NOT need to be watching S5 to understand or enjoy this chapter. This chapter is important to this story/pregnancy arc. It is in the place where it will be in this story and will not be re-ordered.

CHAPTER 16 - SAVED? — is a new chapter to this story. It was previously posted in Hereafter, as it is inspired by an episode from Season 5. You do not need to watch the episode to understand it. It will make sense if you've been following this story and understand that Hank and Woods are having a face-off and Al has gotten wrapped up in it. IT IS IMPORTANT TO THIS STORY. It is currently out of order in this story. When re-ordered it will occur after Chapter 12 — Something to talk about. And it occurs before SPITTING IT OUT, CHURNING and UNEXPECTED CALLER.

Hopefully that makes more sense. I can see that a lot of you just looked at Saved. And many missed SPITTING IT OUT (new and important scene to this AU and story).

I will leave this note here for a few days until the chapters are reordered. Then it will be deleted.

Thanks for reading. And for any feedback, comments and reviews.


	18. The Right Now

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

Jay had to really force himself to not go into this like some kind of amateur.

As amateur as he felt – every day for months now. Trying to figure this out. To wrap his head around it. To be a father. Not a father. Erin didn't want him to just be a father. She wanted him to be a dad. And, Jay knew that's what he wanted too.

He knew he didn't just want to be the guy bringing home the pay check or making sure there was a roof over his kids head or food on the table and clothes on their backs. He'd do all that. But that wasn't just who he wanted to be. He knew he wanted to be more than that. Needed to be more than that. To have a real relationship with his kids. To have those memories and moments and just to actually know them. For them to know him. To have all that history. More than just blood or genetics. Or dependency. Shared experiences. To have – and be – all those things that his father wasn't. The kind of relationship he hadn't had.

But figuring out how to do that part of it – the dad part of it – was just … something he was still figuring out even now. Something he'd had to come to accept that he was likely going to be spending months - years - figuring out each and every day along the way. As things went as plan – and when they really fucking didn't. As they went sideways. And all the fuck over the place.

And you couldn't anticipate all of that. You couldn't plan for it. Not all of it. And he was going to have all kinds of moments where he was just going to be an amateur. At all of this. For a while. Maybe for always with each and every new scenario. Scenarios that he likely hadn't even fucking thought of. Even though he'd put a whole lot of wasted time and energy into trying to think of a whole lot of fucking scenarios. Time and energy that both Erin and his shrink (and even Hank in the scattered times they'd almost had conversations that resembled conversations) told him would be better spent elsewhere. And he heard that. He knew it. But it also just wasn't who he was. Even though he knew that being a parent was going to be a lot of letting go. Grasping onto these kids and taking care of them and protecting them – and then spending a whole fucking lifetime letting go. It was fucked up. And so counter who he was. Who he'd been trained to be. To deal with every possible scenario. To plan. To have a counter maneuver set out. But there was always going to be the unforeseeable. No matter what he did to be prepared.

To prepare himself. He wanted to believe he was. As prepared as he was going to be. Or as he could be. He'd done his bit there. He'd put in the legwork. And the sweat equity. And a whole lot of emotional equity too. The work on himself. As a man. The work on communicating. Maybe somewhat better. Sometimes. The work on the relationship. With Erin. Them as a couple. As much as they could. With half a country between them. Distance in so many ways at such a fucking shitty time. But maybe the best possible thing. Because it'd made them – forced them – to stop dragging ass. TO make decisions. To work on this in a different way than maybe they would've if the twins weren't part of the equation. But even with all of that. All that work and tears and sweat – he was only so prepared. He was and he wasn't.

And that made Jay feel like not just an amateur. It made him feel like some kind of jagoff. An asshole. A frightened, scared asshole who was charging into this like every other idiot who'd gone and gotten his wife or girlfriend or fiancée knocked up and not having a clue what they were doing.

And he was going end up being 'that guy'. That idiot in the waiting room or at the nursing station or triage. Trying to get something and somewhere – that hundreds of thousands of millions of guys had done before - but decided they were somehow special in the fucking scenario.

And he shouldn't be that ass hat. He knew he wasn't special. He knew all kinds of people had been there, done that. Been in his shoes. And this wasn't anything to go losing your shit about.

He'd dealt with bigger, scarier and more urgent emergencies. This wasn't an emergency. He'd know by now if this was a true emergency. But the surge of adrenaline sure meant that it felt like it was.

Jay hadn't had a chance to come down from any of it on the scene – guns people, people killed, op done, cargo off the streets, arrests made - before Hank was telling him to get his ass to the hospital. To Erin. To his kids.

Jay thought his hands were actually shaking that day when Hank said that. In a few words of less. But it didn't need words. This. Less was more. Erin. Babies. Bus. Med. That was enough to get the heart going even more. The hands shaking. Bigger adrenaline surge in a different way than he'd ever felt before.

Even just the shaking hands. It'd been a while since he'd felt that.

It was enough to make it feel like an emergency. Urgent. And he felt like when he'd gotten in the truck, he'd had to force himself not to drive over like some kind of maniac. He had to make himself walk – not run – to get inside. To find her. To keep his tone level. And wait. To not just fucking bark at the speed of the fucking hospital staff and medical system.

But he did it. He'd kept level. He hadn't worked at making enemies with the staff that was supposed to be taking care of Erin and his kids. His unborn kids that might be … just his kids … soon. Today?

And Jay was pretty sure he could taste the iron from how much he'd had to clench his jaw and his fists to keep from going off. To keep from being one of those assholes.

But it's hard to be calm when this was Erin. And his kids. His kids. Still a strange thought and even … stranger in … if this was the call. If this was time. The time.

It was hard to believe it might be the time. Only is wasn't.

He'd been waiting. Maybe he'd created a fucking self-fulfilling prophecy. And he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe it depended on how this all played out.

Thirty-two weeks – they could be healthy. They should be healthy. This could still all go right. Something had to go right. They needed a win.

And that was part of the reason it was hard to not be that asshole. Because he wanted answers to all those questions.

If this was all alright. How Erin was. How the twins were. If this was an emergency. How urgent it was. If it was time. If he'd officially be a father that day? A dad that day?

He'd so fucking knew this was going to happen. The timing. He'd felt it coming. It just figured.

Self-fulfilling prophecy right there. Erin would be pissed at that. Pissed at him more if any sort of told-you-so slipped out. But this was just … them.

Him U.C. What was going on with Olinsky. Al. And Hank. And Woods. Bingham. The name he wasn't supposed to speak. And hadn't.

And really just that whole fucking month. Week. Day.

It was just a given. Today would be the day. It was so fucking them.

And Jay knew for absolute fact that if their kids were born right now Erin would be spouting off that 'born into bad news' line. And he wasn't sure he could argue with her on the sentiment of that. The timing of it. Even though he'd still argue she was wrong in all the other ways she meant when she went off on that self-pity tangent.

No self-pity now. No time for that. Just go-time. Get it done. Deal.

There were going to be a whole lot of bigger things to deal with and figure out. Now? It could be fucking now.

He finally managed to get directed to her. To get to where they'd shuffled her.

A nurse was in there. And Eth.

And Erin generally looked okay. Alert. Talking. Looking at the nurse and chatting at Eth. Looking at the monitors all around her – and strapped to her and her belly. To the twins.

She looked like she was holding it together. But that was Erin. She'd argue she was fine – and fine, and fine – until she wasn't. And he'd know her long enough – they'd been through enough together – that even though her voice had an even and calm tone, he could read her face. Her eyes. And there was a touch of fear in there. Worry.

And that stirred in him too.

But she must've sensed him there. Her eyes moved to him when he was barely in the doorway.

"Hey," she mouthed at him.

"Hey," he allowed and let himself in. Took himself to the foot of her bed to stare at the monitors too. The heart rates and numbers and lines moving across them.

"He's here," Erin said to the nurse.

Like that was some kind of ongoing discussion they'd been having. Waiting on him. Which he hated. It felt like it was going to be the story of their family life – of his fatherhood – if he wasn't careful. If he didn't figure out the job and how to be a dad in a family. That they'd always be left waiting on him. And then eventually going ahead without him. And he didn't know he wanted that. He didn't want that. But he didn't know how to really fix that. Not right now.

But right now, them waiting on him, calmed him a little. Because they weren't in emergency territory. Not with where they had her and how she looked. And them waiting for him to get there. Not with all these monitors. He hoped?

The nurse just gave her a nod and checked the monitors again, giving her hand a little pat. "I'll make sure the doctor knows." And she left.

And Jay started to drift around the bed to find her hand on the side that wasn't occupied by Eth. But she stopped him.

"Where's Hank?" she asked.

And he gave her a look. That stung in a way. That she was still asking for Hank. Even now. That that was what was out of her mouth right now. When he had so many questions and things he wanted to asked her and answers he needed.

But a small apology played across her face and she gestured at Eth. The kid wasn't even trying to hide how much he was teetering with his own nerves and adrenaline there. It wasn't exactly the kind of energy they needed in the room. Eth being there wasn't exactly how Jay pictured this moment either. If this was the moment.

"He'll be here in a bit," Jay said. "Al."

Al. Woods. Tomorrow's bail hearing. Hank doing whatever Hank was doing. That they weren't supposed to ask questions about. That maybe they really didn't want to know about. Especially right now. But maybe it'd be better to know especially right now.

And maybe Hank would be smarter to be here – or within reach and reachable – right now. Depending on what happened tonight. And what happened tomorrow morning. And whatever decisions and implications any of that had. For the family. For this family. Their family. Hank's family. Jay's family.

How this went. Right or sideways. Decisions made or not made. And what all that went for Hank's opportunity to be there – here – for any of it. His opportunity to be there for Erin in this. These moments – and aftermath. And to meet his grandkids.

But that was Hank's business.

Whatever opinions Jay had on it. He'd been instructed from multiple fronts to stay out of it. And as much as that fucking pissed him off – right now—maybe that made a lot of sense.

Because Jay didn't want to be anywhere else. Caught up in anything else. Missing this. Or everything that came after. For him. And Erin. And the twins. And their family.

This was where he needed to be. The people he needed to be there for. This was what mattered right now. This was family. This was bigger than the right now.

"Did Al get bail?" Ethan blurted.

"That's tomorrow. Morning," Jay provided.

"He has to get bail," Eth said.

"He will," Erin said. "Your dad will get it taken care of."

"How?" Eth demanded. "He's not a lawyer. And they say Al killed the guy who likely killed J."

Erin's eyes shifted to Jay. There was an annoyance – and just an exhaustion – in them. "Let's not talk about this right now," she muttered. At Eth. Not him. But maybe at him too. It wasn't the energy she wanted in the room either. Not a discussion that needed to be had. Right now. Not where their focus could be – or should be. Where it needed to be.

"Erin," Eth argued. "He hasta get outta there. Is it lock-up or prison?"

"He's at Cook County," Jay said.

"Jail?" Eth blurted again. "You know what they do to cops in jail?"

Erin exhaled and put her hand against her belly. Discomfort played across her face and Jay ignored her gesture for him to stop and he went and squeezed her hand. He placed his hand on her belly too.

"He'll be fine," she said. "They'll have him in isolation."

"They hurt cops in jail," Ethan said. "Kill 'em if they can. They tried to kill Dad. And he says that was just lock-up."

"You dad told you someone tried to kill him?" Erin pushed back at her brother, as she kept a hold of Jay's hand, squeezing it tight.

"Like Dad tells me anything," Eth grumbled.

"Because," Erin pursed out, "No one tried to kill your dad."

Ethan stared at her. "I'm not stupid."

"You watch too much TV," Erin mumbled.

"No, I don't," Eth argued back. "'Cuz Dad won't let me. But I know enough to know how it works. Cops and the people they put away."

"I am done talking about this right now," Erin pushed back at him firmly. She still had some kick to her. That was a good sign. Though, if Eth really wasn't that stupid, he'd let this drop now.

"He got shanked," Ethan said.

Erin's eyes moved to him at that. "He didn't."

"He did. He has a scar," Eth's hand landed on his side.

Erin rolled her eyes. But Jay saw them catch – recognition and fear. "He had his appendix out." He could tell there was truth to that statement – but that it was an attempt to deflect her brother.

"That's this one," Ethan argued right back and pointed a little lower. "Don't you ever look at him?"

"With his shirt off?" Erin raised her eyebrow at her brother. "I make it my mission to ensure I see your dad in as many clothes as possible."

Eth took his turn to try to roll his eyes at that. It didn't really work. He didn't have that kind of control of his eye movements anymore. Likely a shitty skill set – and muscle control – to lose when you were a teenager.

"You've seen him in his underwear," Eth said.

Erin gave Jay a look. A shared look. A version neither of them really needed or wanted right then. Or pretty much ever

"I try not to look that closely," Erin muttered at Eth before putting more directly to Jay, "Can you just … check his one eye? It's doing that thing."

He gave a little nod. He didn't really need to go over. He could see it from where he was standing. What she saw and what she was asking him to check. But he went over to Eth anyway.

He put his hand on his forehead and tried to cock his head a bit to take a look at the crocked, side-cast way the pupil had rolled in the kid's socket. But Eth barely let him look at it – jerking away.

"J got beat up in jail and he was just the kid of a cop," Eth argued.

"Ethan. Enough," Erin hissed at him. She'd really managed to get the mom-tell-off tone down. Apparently being a cop – and an older sister – prepared you for that part of her new job description in all kinds of ways.

"Yea," Jay allowed to Erin and her request to look at the eye.

"Great," she flat-lined. "Just what we need. This sending him into a flare too."

And that was something they talked about a lot. What the stress of the arrival of the twins might do to Eth's nervous system – how his body coped, and didn't know how to cope, with inflammation. How stress just seemed to exasperate that and to create a flare of his symptoms. How that was just how M.S. worked. How all the doctors said to try to avoid stress to help manage your symptoms. It was a fucking stupid thing to say to anyone dealing with a chronic, progressive, degenerative illness. That was a pretty fucking stressful situation. Add in life – and you're pretty much fucked.

Though, maybe Ethan was more fucked than most. He just got to bounce from one stressful situation to another. It was likely helping in slowly killing the kid. Life. Them. Directly and indirectly.

But Jay didn't think it was the twins' arrival that they had to worry about in creating a flare. It'd be tomorrow. It'd be how all this played out in the next few days. And then what that meant for Hank. What it meant for Eth.

They'd talked about that. The fallout from … whatever decisions Hank made in how to deal with all this. With Woods. With Bingham. With the situation if Al didn't make bail. If Al got convicted. With the speed of the Justice system and jail time being on the table. And any admissions or deals that got made. The good ol'boys. And what being a cop meant. The code and honor and repercussions. Brotherhood. Family. Friendship. And the impact that might have. What it all meant.

That would be where the flare would come into play. More than this. More than today.

They were anticipating it. They were trying to do their own legwork. On how to work it. What happened to Eth. How they managed that – if any of it came to that – and they had two babies and a kid with a chronic illness under their roof. Especially if he was flaring up. Or the disease was in an active state of progressive again. If all this set it's progression in motion again when they weren't even really out of the woods from last June. Eth hadn't recovered from that yet. And now there was all this.

In some ways the pieces were already in place to handle this. Erin had wanted Hank to sign the paperwork to make her an official member of the Voight family for her own reasons. As a statement to him. An acknowledgement and an apology. To close one chapter. To reaffirm one that had been ongoing anyway. To have some stability. The thought of when or if "something happens to Hank" had been put forward as an after-thought. That it'd be easier for her to take custody or guardianship over Eth and his health, if he was still a minor. But now, it felt like having that paperwork signed might end up being beneficial for other reasons. To not have to get into some other kind of legal quagmire.

Because Jay didn't know how Hank got the fuck out of this. This fucking mess. That it'd gotten this far. But he couldn't let Al go down for this. For the kind of man Hank was and wasn't – Jay didn't think he was that kind of man. Not for family – a brother. Friend. But he got it. He got that it was a fucking mess – because of Ethan. And Erin. And the twins. Henry. Olive. Because of a lot of past history. Family – on the job and at home. Things he'd done and decisions he'd made and demons he had on his back and debts he had to pay. But maybe Hank shouldn't thought of that before. Before he went off the leash and off book.

Dragged all of them into this. This fucking mess. That Jay wasn't going to let himself think about. Not right now. It wasn't where his focus could be – should be – right now.

"It just does that when I'm stressed and nervous and—" Eth sputtered out with a good amount of teen-aged tone.

"Ethan," Erin pressed. "It's not just the eye. You're motoring without a filter."

"To keep you distracted so you don't get all stressed and nervous," Eth argued.

"And, yet you keep picking topics that I've told you are off-limits," she said.

"Well, you told me to shut up about the Cubs and about anything to do with dinosaurs, fossils or geology."

Erin did manage to roll her eyes. "Yes, please."

There was an acknowledgement in that tone that Eth shutting up about any of those topics was likely never-ever going to happen. Ever. And those topics that he had ingrained in his mind just became more prominent and rambling in the moments he was churning and spinning and flaring.

Eth listened, though. Right then. Sort of. Instead he looked Jay square in the eyes. "They shoved basically a giant wand up her …" and he pointed generally in the direction between her legs. There was a mild look of horror on Eth's face at that. Jay knew the feeling. He hadn't exactly been expecting that the first time they pulled it out either – and then had to put it inside Erin. That wasn't what you saw in the movies.

But Erin was giving Eth a horrified look. Justifiably. Because that wasn't exactly the position – or sight – you ever wanted your baby brother to catch sight of. She glared at Eth as the horror gave way to outright fuming.

"You were supposed to be waiting outside then," she said. "And I want you out. Now. Give us the room."

Eth's eyes fell at that. And Erin's eyes flickered a bit too at the hurt look her brother was giving her. So Jay gave the kid's shoulder a squeeze.

"Look, Bud, I appreciate you watching out for her until I could get here. But, how about you go grab us a few Gatorades or something. Let me get up to speed. Okay?"

Eth gave him the sad eyes too. But Jay gave him a thin smile and dug a few bills out.

"C'mon. You know where all the best vending machines are in this place. It'd be doing me a solid. Need to rehydrate before all this goes down."

Eth gave him a quiet sigh but took the held out cash and gave his sister an apologetic look before slinking out of the curtained off space.

Jay immediately took the chair Eth had been in and took her hand again. "What'd the doctor say?"

She gave him a frown – one she tried to turn into a thin-lipped smile. But it didn't turn. The worry became more apparently all over her face.

He held her hand tighter. "It's okay," he told her. "You can tell me."

"Baby B broke her water. There's a massive rupture," she exhaled.

"Okay," Jay acknowledged. He tried to keep even, calm, present. "What's that mean? For, like, now?"

"They gave me the Betamethasone for their lungs as soon as they got me here," she said and held their hands tighter.

"Okay," he managed to get out again. "So … those take like twenty-four hours to kick in. Right? So … ?"

Her free hand came up and tried to smooth the hair away from her forehead. He moved his free hand and did it for her. There was a bit of sweat there. Clamminess.

"The boy's heart rate – they were having trouble getting a reading on it," she said and gestured up at the monitor. "It's there but a little thready."

"So why aren't they taking us in for the C-section?" he pressed and gave an urgent glance toward the door. Toward the nurses and the doctors. The need to reel in his urge to go and be an ass-hat again.

"They think it's just the way the girl's moved. That they can't get a good reading," she sighed. "So they're going to take me to do another ultrasound to take a better look."

"But your, her, water broke," Jay said.

"Apparently that doesn't mean I'm in full labor," she shook her head and squeezed at his hand. "I don't know. I wasn't timing the contractions."

"But you're contracting?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said and moved their hands to over her belly and her eyes to the monitor, giving it a nod. "I think so. They're trying to get a read on that too. If it is real labor, they're going to give me something to stop it."

"Stop it?" Jay pressed. "Why? If his heart sounds off?"

"For their lungs," she said and her voice cracked a bit. "They want to try to stop it for about forty-eight hours, if they can."

And she stared at him with eyes rimming. And he just held her hand – fighting to keep his eyes steady and level on her.

"I'm sorry," she sputtered in her attempt to keep it even.

But Jay shook his head. "Twins, Erin," he tried to assure – both of them. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's just twins. Okay? This happens. We're here. They doctors have got it under control. It's going to be fine."

"Will it …?"

And there was so many layers to that question. As she looked him in the eyes. With those eyes. Searching for answers and assurances. Ones that Jay didn't know he had. Answers to questions and situations and scenarios to a whole lot of I-don't-knows. More situations that he couldn't – hadn't – prepared for. As much as he'd tried. They'd tried.

But he still had to give her something. Give them both something. To be able to move forward. In the now.

"Sure," he said. "We'll figure it out."

Because that's what they did. That's what you had to do. Right now. And with whatever the coming days and hours – the future – held for them.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **I had started writing this chapter before the finale. I didn't change what I had pre-written.**

 **I've had a few asks on if I'm going to be playing with what happened in the finale — and the answer is 'yes, most definitely'. I wasn't shocked by it. I have thoughts on it as a writer (e.g. saw it coming). And as a fan of the show, character and Koteas as an actor (e.g. I'll miss O on the show). However, even though I saw it coming they sequenced the timing of it a little differently than I expected (e.g. I expected the death to be either at the end of the episode or implied between seasons or in the first ep of S6). I also saw how (and the timing) of the climax and confrontation between Voight and Woods playing out a little differently in terms of where they would've put the season cliffhanger. I also saw some of the set-up they were doing in the season as a character arc moment for if the show didn't get renewed. Things could've been tweaked a little differently to give some resolution (and redemption and change and growth) for Voight if the ep had been a series finale. So as a writer I have lots of thoughts too. Also about where this has left Voight as a character and man — and what that potentially means for the future of the show.**

 **Anyway. So right now I might still need process exactly what scenes I want to do. I do have two that I want to do pretty quickly.**

 **However, if I need more time to process, I might go back and do a couple scenes that happened before this (e.g. Erin/Eth talk about present and the pregnancy, Will/Jay about pregnancy and Natalie and their dad, the shower, etc.)**

 **Also, there were a couple Jay/Will scenes from Med that I might want to play off of or reference in this AU. Both before and after this scene.**

 **And there's been a storyline on Fire with Casey/Gaby that I sort of want to play with or imply in the shower scene or with an Erin/Gaby conversation.**

 **We'll see what happens. I might have a bit more time than usual in the next two weeks to write a bit. So maybe there will be a few chapters up.**

 **Also, please note the previous chapters that were out of order will be reordered as of this post.**

 **Thanks for your readership, reviews, comments and feedback.**


	19. Lack of Conversation

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

Erin watched as she drove up to the house to see Hank give her a glance from his work on his hands and knees in a small patch of land he'd turned up and placed fresh soil and mulch on in front of her house.

He was working on rather laboriously plant some spring flowers from the looks of it. Daisies, gerberas, mums, petunias, tulips. And some Martha Washingtons. Those were Camille's favorites. But she knew – could see immediately – he had some of her favorites there too. Apparently a small tradition and gesture – that didn't really feel so small these days – spilling over to in front of her house. Her home.

She could tell she wasn't likely supposed to have spotted him. That wasn't the way Hank operated. That she was just supposed to come home – whenever she got home – and see it. That she'd know it was him who'd done it. That she'd call him – or mention it to him, thank him – the next time she saw him. And he'd only give her a dismissive grunt. Not confirming that he'd been him who'd done the gardening. And also not acting like it was much of anything worth acknowledging.

He looked away as soon as they caught eyes through the windshield and went back to tilling and patting carefully around the plant he was working with.

Erin let out a slow exhale and put the car into park. She hadn't expected to find him there either. Though, she wouldn't exactly say she was surprised. Not by his presence. Or what he was doing.

It was Mother's Day.

Traditions, routines, small gestures. Ones that he usually tried to do under the radar and out of the spotlight. Private, personal. Reserved for the few. The people and things he placed value in. That was Hank.

And maybe him being there and trying to still keep up all of that was a good sign. A good sign for all of them. Or a penance. Ongoing. And never-ending. Now. But maybe it always had been. For as long as she could remember. It'd just been labeled in different ways. Painted with different justifications and convictions. But when you peeled that away – he was still on his knees, trying to make good with someone or something. Right now – these days – she knew what that someone and something was. More than usual.

So Erin also wasn't really sure she wanted to see him or talk with him or be there with him alone. Because right now that was hard too. In new and different ways than it'd ever been hard before.

Still, she was happy to see him. In another way too.

She let herself undo the seatbelt and open the door.

She worked at pulling herself out of the car. It still felt like an unnatural movement. She was sore. Maybe a little more than sore. In a lot of ways. But, right in that moment, it was physical.

The incision wasn't healing the way it was supposed to. But the twins' arrival hadn't exactly gone the way it was supposed to either. And the C-section had gone sideways – about as sideways as her son had been inside her - in about the same way.

Hank sat back on his heels and watched her over his shoulder as she breathed through hauling herself up using the door.

"Need a hand," he'd called at her.

Called because she'd pushed enough that he knew not to just come over and grab her. Not right now. Maybe not for a while. Or ever again.

There was a tone in his voice. A 'should you be driving' that was more of a statement to the contrary than a question.

And maybe she shouldn't.

Technically they'd said two weeks. It hadn't been that.

Technically she'd told Jay she'd MAYBE just get an Uber to the town house – so he could stay with the twins and not ferry her around. But she hadn't.

She'd dug the keys out of her pocket and easily found where Jay had left the Sierra. It'd been a mix of easier and awful to get into and out of. To strap the belt across her and to get the seat and mirrors and wheel adjusted for someone shorter than Jay – who'd recently had her mid-section sliced into.

But if she was leaving the hospital – without Jay, without the babies – even if only for a few hours (that's what Jay had suggested – go home for a few hours, for the afternoon. She hadn't agreed to that even though she had forced herself to leave the hospital. But she really just planned to attempt to shower and change. To maybe stare at her incisions and stitches and the packing in the mirror for a while while she did.) she was going to exert some independence. She needed it.

The little bit of space that she both wanted and needed and absolutely feared with everything that had happened in the past 10 days.

Because she wasn't sure she should be alone with her thoughts. She wasn't sure she could be. And she'd been forcing herself to stay in the moment. All the moments that were in front of her where her attention was needed.

But that was hard too. And it was hard to look at her children and not let her thoughts drift. And all those thoughts and guilt and sadness kept creeping in.

When this was supposed to be a happy thing. When they needed a different kind of energy and support. And instead she found herself gazing at her newborns and fighting tears (or completely not able to stop them) for so many reasons. And she hated that. She hated that was a part of her – and this – so much.

So she didn't take Hank's offer.

The support or strength that maybe his hand or shoulder could provide. But she wasn't so sure right now they'd really do any of those things. Because he was carrying his own weight now more than usual.

His hands were dirty. His shoulders heavy. He was tired and broken and sad too. In his own new and added ways than all the other things life – and choices – had thrown at him before.

So she didn't give him an answer. Not right then. Not a verbal one. She just shook her head. Shook her head and got to her own two-feet - herself.

Even though she could feel him watching and worrying. Feeling his own guilt. Guilt that she didn't want him projecting her way. Because she was already wallowing in her own. And the clash of that anxiety and energy coming off both of them … wasn't doing anything for anyone.

Not for them. Not for the babies.

Not for all the things that it felt like they wanted or needed to say. And, yet, she wasn't sure if there was ever going to be a time and place for that now. Not an appropriate one.

Not even when they were both off the job and around a camp fire with a few too many drinks in their systems. They were conversations that never would be had. And maybe couldn't be had. And that stung too. Because she almost wanted to – needed to – talk about it. As much as she didn't.

Her and Jay hadn't talked about it yet. Any of it.

Jay's red-rimmed eyes when he'd come back into L&D after going down to get an update – to sit with the rest of the team for a while – had told her everything she needed to know. She'd tried to find words. He'd tried to find words. There'd been tears.

It wrecked at her insides. So badly that their hours and hours of efforts to stop the labor – their hopes of putting it off for forty-eight hours and then three days and then weeks, to prepare the twins more, if they could – faded. The contractions came back fast and heavy. And then she started bleeding. She was utterly physically and emotionally exhausted – and scared – being wheeled into the OR.

Born into bad news. It felt like an understatement.

The guilt. The levels of it …

She knew she needed … to talk about it. But so far she'd had another vigil to keep. At the hospital.

It'd been five days before they'd released her. Five long days. It put things in perspective with Ethan. With Hank. With Justin. And Olive.

As many hours and days and weeks and months she'd spent at her baby brother's bedside – it's different when you're the one in the bed. When you so desperately wanted – needed – to be somewhere else. And, as much as she loved Ethan and worried about him – it is different when it's your child in the hospital bed. In the incubator. With the tubes and oxgen and monitors attached to them. All these wires and tubes. And how little they look.

And knowing it's going to be days and weeks and months that they might be there. And feeling like – knowing – you are part of the reason they are there.

She hadn't gotten to go to the funeral. The memorial service. She was still in the hospital. And as much as she wanted to be there – she wasn't sure she could. If she could look in Meredith's eyes yet. If she could find words for her. Other than she was so sorry. And she knew that wasn't what Meredith wanted to hear.

She doubted Meredith even wanted to see her. She hadn't wanted to see Hank. He wasn't welcome at the service. Thirty-two years of friendship and he wasn't able to attend.

Hank had respected her wishes. Though, Erin knew that would've been hard for him. That he would've struggled with himself. And his own guilt – and morals and convictions. What he felt was right. And how he conducted himself. At work and at home. And with family. For family.

But maybe … that was the problem. What he'd done and hadn't done for family. For friendship. For the job. And the code. And honor. Out of necessity and out of conviction. What he stood for. And what Al had done too.

It was more they hadn't talked about. Not yet. Not ever?

Ethan had gone, though. Erin wasn't sure Meredith particularly wanted him there either. But … it was the decision made. Not by Hank. Erin didn't think. Because that was one conversation she had had. With her brother. Her little brother. Who looked more and more like stone – but had held it together while she tried desperately to hold it together in front of him in that hospital bed. And he'd told her he was going to go. For his uncle and for his godfather. For his dad. And her. And their family.

Because that was the kind of boy – man – Hank had raised, despite … what Meredith might feel about him right now.

A fourteen-year-old boy was their family's face – representation – at the service. And Jay. With Jay. And the rest of the team. Their family.

Erin wasn't sure their family – their unit – was ready to look at Hank yet either. Not then. Not now. Though, she also didn't know the full dynamics of that yet. Though, maybe she knew she didn't want to. Not yet.

Jay had only be in to deal with paperwork. He was taking at least two weeks of parental leave. He hadn't started mounting an argument yet, but she suspected he'd be extending it to the full amount he could get. Paid. Because she needed him there with her at the hospital. And he needed to be there. Because she wasn't sure he was ready to go back to that bullpen yet either. To the looks on the faces of the people left behind. And the looks they were directing at Hank.

The ones she'd seen Jay direct at him – and then check himself and try to tame them. The ones that told her there were conversations they did need to have. But couldn't yet. And maybe shouldn't yet.

The team – their family – would likely prefer if Hank took some leave too. Found some sort of reason or excuse. But that wasn't Hank. Going there and living under their glares – their eyes and looks – was part of his penance. And yet another thing they had yet to talk about.

Erin saw the eyes – felt them – too. Kim. Platt. They'd come to see her. And she could see on their faces the pain and the blame. She could see it on Adam and Kevin's too – though she thought they'd more come to see Jay than her. Antonio hadn't come. And that said more than any conversation with any of them.

There had been part of her that wanted to defend Hank. To tell them that their anger was misdirected. That it'd been her fault. Her who got Al involved. And she wished she never had. But she knew the conversation would go back to the argument that it was Hank's actions – his decision – that brought all this onto all of them. That cost Al his life.

And part of her wanted to agree. Part of her wanted to be angry at him. At Hank. But she'd already done that. She'd done it so many times and in so many ways. And right now for all the emotions she was feeling – pain, grief, guilt – anger directed at Hank wasn't one of them. Anger with herself. Anger with the people who'd physically killed him. Anger at the system. And Chicago.

But not at Hank. And maybe she was … feeling all this wrong. Maybe there were just too many emotions going on – too much – going on for what she was feeling to make any sense. Maybe she'd be angry with him later. Maybe she'd hate him later.

But she'd done all that before too. And right now she didn't have the energy.

And she felt like … she couldn't push him out and away now. Because … she knew that Al had made his own choices too. About family and code. About the job. And what was right. And how you conduct yourself.

And he'd made choices to … protect her. To protect Hank. So they could have this. Be there – together – for this. All of them. Her, Jay, Hank, Ethan. For the twins.

And she thought maybe the team – their family – knew that on some level too. She thought that they'd come in to see the twins – to see what had been sacrificed for above and beyond code or Chicago or the job or Hank – more than they'd come to see her. But they weren't letting anyone in to see them yet. Not really. Not yet. For so many more reasons.

But Hank. He'd gotten to see them. He was getting to see them. Which might've been a mistake of its own. Or what was needed. What Hank needed to start … putting the pieces back together.

He'd cried. Visibly. And prolonged. And despite having seen Hank shed tears – or to try to hide them – it'd never been like that before. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" were about the only words he'd said. Intermittently. Almost inconsolably. To the point that Erin had to excuse herself. Because it'd only brought her to tears too. Tears that hurt – her whole body and being.

Jay had come to find her. To stay with her. Leaving Hank there alone. And when they'd managed to calm themselves and gone back – he'd still been there sitting next to their babies' covered cribs, still looking like he was working at keeping himself together. And even when they'd sat with him – and their babies – for more time, it'd eventually been Hank who told them they should get some rest. That he could stay. A vigil – not entirely for the twins. Erin knew that was exactly what it was. But those words hadn't gotten used either.

And he'd still been sitting there when she came back in the morning. Jay told her that he hadn't slept and the times he'd been in-and-out of the NICU Hank had been there all night. Finally leaving when she managed to get back down. And leaving then too without a word or discussion or conversation of any kind. Just a squeeze of her shoulder and a squeeze of her hand. And he'd been gone. Without her asking any questions.

And without giving any real answers of his own yet either. So maybe that made her non-answer acceptable then too.

He took her declination for help in stride. He sensed that she didn't want – need – that energy directed at her. And he turned back to his flowers. Her flowers? A memorial. Of what? Her first Mother's Day?

She knew that's likely what it was meant to be. It was what it was.

It was what he did – all Camille had ever wanted, beyond having kids who tried to get along and behave for all of twenty-four hours – on Mother's Day. He still did it. Planted flowers in the little front plot of flowerbeds dug out in front of the house next to the stoop. Tilling and planting and watering the garden boxes in the backlot.

The ones that had been dug apart by Ethan for years like some sort of secondary sandbox. The ones that Henry did the same to now – because black soil was much more fun than just mucky sand. The ones that Bear treated like some kind of litter box or treasure hunt depending on the day – as he tried to dig his way to … China or Wisconsin? To find some dinosaur bones on Ethan's behalf? He might have more luck in China than Wisconsin with that effort.

The garden boxes that Hank still fussed with all summer. Like partly because of them being Camille's. And partly because he needed something to do when he was around the house. And partly because – though he'd never admit it – he'd become an almost decent vegetable gardener, even though he barely managed to keep any of the flowers alive – no matter how much he paid for them in money, time, sweat and tears. But vegetables – he managed to grow tomatoes and lettuces and peppers and cucumbers out there. And then grill them all summer. Like a little Italian grandpa – that he was not.

And partly because it was yet another penance. One that had been going on for years and years.

Because it wasn't just the spots around the house that Camille had turned up the sod and labored on putting in boxes where the flowers ended up now. It was at the cemetery. By her headstone. A memorial.

And Erin knew that that's where Hank would've been before he brought these flowers over here. She knew that it wasn't just Camille's grave he would've stood over. It would've been Justin's. And his parents and Camille's parents.

And she suspected – knew - Al's. And Lexi's. Now. Finally, quietly and privately. And at Al's grave the grass still would've been churned up, loose soil. And the cut flowers tossed on top of it would likely be still almost as alive as these ones that Hank was planting in front of her house.

But all she said to Hank as she half-hobbled and half-staggered, in her efforts to still try to normalize and stabilize her gait as she healed, over was that, "Those look nice." Because they did. Even though they didn't.

He did give her thin smile. A sad look. And one of his grunts. "Happy Mother's Day," he graveled at her.

She made a little sound. Because it still felt strange to hear that. Those words directed at her. Especially the middle one. Mother. Mommy. Mom. She wasn't sure when it'd stop feeling a little strange. Or that it'd feel right on her. But it didn't quite yet.

And she wondered if – now – it would ever feel quite right. She worried it wouldn't. It couldn't. Even though she knew she couldn't feel that way. Because sacrifices had been made so she could have … all this.

So "Thanks," she managed.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **There will be a continuation of this scene. It was just getting long.**

 **I might do some pre-chapters to this one later.**


	20. End's Beginning

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

Erin worked at easing herself down to sit on the single concrete step in front of their door. She must've favored her mid-section a little too much that time, though, and Hank did reach out to grab and support her hand. And she accepted it. That time. She took his hand and put some weight on his shoulder and settled herself on the step.

He gazed at her. Hard. Silently. Sadly. Blankly. She was having trouble reading his looks right now. Beyond the radiating sadness and guilt. But maybe she didn't want to read him right now either. She couldn't.

So she stared at the flowers instead. "Leftovers?" she asked.

She did see a small twitch across his face at that. A minor gut punch – that she hadn't meant to throw. Not that way.

"Mmm …," he grunted and turned from her and back to his work too. "Got some for you and Olive."

Too. That was missing. But she knew there should be a too there. An afternoon? Or on purpose?

But she nodded. And dwelled on that. On the Olive part. That he'd got some for Olive too.

And she wondered where he expected Olive to put them? But maybe he got her a bouquet. But that wasn't Hank. Even with Camille, that wasn't Hank.

So maybe something potted. Or a planter or hanging basket she could put out on her balcony.

Not that it really mattered. It was just easier to think about – to dwell on – that. About where Olive would put flowers in her apartment.

So much easier than any of the rest of their current reality. The penance they all had to do. The acceptance they had to come to. The guilty they had to deal with. The mourning they needed to do. And the search – the effort – to move on. To keep making a way in this new reality – that looked and felt so different than she'd expected or anticipated. But maybe she should've expected and anticipated that.

And maybe she had. But she had in other ways. Ways about her and Jay. About their relationship. About the twins. About being a family. About her relationship with her family. About her life. And her career.

But in all the ways she'd had expectations and anticipations – all the disaster planning she'd dwelled on in the lead up to the birth of her children – this hadn't been a part of it. This sadness and this guilt.

Because if something was going to happen – to go wrong, to derail and go sideways – it was going to be Hank. It'd be Hank awaiting trial. It'd be Hank out of a job. Hank looking at jail time. Hank shanked. Injured, hospitalized. Dead. Hank dead in the dirt. Hank who'd dug his own grave.

And her dealing with the sadness and guilt and fallout of that. Picking up the pieces.

It was supposed to be Hank in the scenarios she'd run. Not Al. And this just changed … everything. It wasn't a reality she'd anticipated. Not in this way.

"Figured, you two give me my grandkids, least I could do," Hank said.

And that was the crux of it. She knew it. Ethan. Henry. Her baby – preemie – twins. It was why Alvin had made his choices. Above and beyond the code he lived by. Or as part of the code he lived by.

Because Hank was worth it? Because she was? Ethan was? Henry and her babies were? What they deserved and needed.

All that he'd given up.

Hank risked his life in other ways. He risked himself for his children. For his family. For his city. Did … things … to protect them. To take care of them.

"You do lots," she muttered staring at the flowers. At his hands working in the dirt. Buried in it. Dirty.

And she knew Hank had tried with Al. She knew he was working at it with Al.

But then he hadn't. Not for his friend. His partner. His brother in blue. Their family.

Hank hadn't confessed. He hadn't sacrificed himself. Died in the dirt. Lay in a grave – of his own making - for Alvin.

Alvin had, instead, for all of them.

And Erin had to look away. To stare over at the truck.

Hank wasn't dirty. He was necessary. She kept telling herself when her mind – thoughts – drifted. It kept going to the justice – the form of justice – he'd taught her. How to get just a little bit in a city like Chicago. For a city like Chicago.

He'd made a career – a life – out of making necessary choices. She'd made necessary choices of her own. And Al had made his own – necessary – choices.

But maybe Al's choices shouldn't have ever had to become choices he had to make. Not necessary ones.

But Hank did do lots. So much for them. For his family. For the people he considered family. For his city. Lots.

Lots of good. A whole lot of good. Sprinkled with the … the not bad. The grey. The convictions he had. The necessary. That right now stung so much. That would always sting a little now. Forever.

Even for all the good Hank did. The lots of good. The necessary. For all of them. It was going to sting

"Is Ethan inside?" she mumbled.

Hank grunted and kept working. "He needed some time," he offered. "At the house."

She made a small acknowledgement and reached to feel the petals of on the daisies. He had different kinds. Cornflower. Gerber. Shasta. Her favorites. Not Camille's. Not leftovers. Not an afterthought.

"Think he's got something for you," Hank offered, eyeing her hands on the flower. "For your first Mother's Day."

She allowed a thin smile at that. There was that word again. Her hand dropped from the daisy. She could feel him eyeing it. Her finger. Ring finger. And that was one conversation she knew she didn't want to have. Not with him. Not now.

She didn't want him to start. But she knew he wouldn't.

She wondered, though, if and when any of that would happen now. It felt like if it was going to happen, it was going to happen before the twins arrived. Now when would there be a right time? In all of this? When would it feel right? Was it really necessary? To be that kind of couple? And that kind of family? And those kinds of cops?

And right now she didn't know. She felt like her and Jay might be switching places again. That now it was going to be her who wasn't sure when she could feel his sureness kicking in. It radiated off him – grew more and more – every day, hour, minute they got to spend with their babies.

The necessity. But necessary.

But Erin only wanted it if they could do it right. And right now – could they really do it, right?

"I'm just going to shower and change," Erin said. "I'm not going to be here long."

Maybe that sounded unappreciative. Or like she didn't want to see Ethan. But it wasn't that. It was just she needed to be somewhere else.

Hank made a sound and sat back on his heels again, brushing his hands against his jeans. They were already dirty. A little more barely made a mark.

"How's my grandson?" he asked.

She tried a smile. But she felt it flutter. There wasn't a good way to answer that. Only maybe that afternoon there was.

"I got to hold him today," she allowed.

"Mmm …," Hank allowed at that. And he smiled for her. At her. For her baby? And it made her let herself smile a bit too. "How was that?"

She nodded. She nodded and stared at her feet. Both trying to organize her thoughts – and emotions. And really just trying to stop her tears.

It made Hank shift and stand. To move those few feet and to sit next to her on that concrete step. His hand resting on her back while she tried to compose herself. Until she was able to look at him from behind the curtain of her hair.

"He's so small," she managed. She tried to keep her voice even. "But he's strong." She was even in that. She knew it. She wasn't trying to convince herself. She'd seen it in him. The entire pregnancy. How he'd come out. How he was doing. And she'd felt it radiating from his body while she finally got to hold him that morning. To not just touch him.

"Gonna be," Hank said and his hand rubbed at her back. "Look at the mom and dad he got."

She swiped at her eyes quickly and tucked the hair behind her ears. She made herself straighten.

"Switched him over to CPAP yesterday and got him off it for a while this morning. Jay got to kangaroo care," she said and smiled a bit more. Smiled at Hank's little sound of acknowledgement.

The little smile. The memory she saw flicker across his face too. Of hers too. Because she remembered seeing Hank holding Ethan like that while he was a little preemie too. In those early days. And then spilling over into weeks and months after. Years after. Because she still saw it in some ways. The way Hank gave his son a hug. The way he placed his arms around him. The way Eth clung to his dad – knowingly and unknowingly – through everything he'd been through. The quiet comfort that she knew Ethan still got from his dad – even when he was hurt and mad. Comfort that he might not even know where it'd come from. But that it was likely some sort of ingrained bond from those early days. Something she hoped their son would have with Jay. With her too.

"He liked it," she said. "Both of them."

"Guess so," Hank said and gave her back another small rub. "Feels pretty good."

She nodded. It did. It had. For her too. Finally having his tiny, delicate body in her arms. To get to hold him against her chest. To be able to touch him head to toe all at once. To let him know – feel – she was there. Finally. Fully.

"He got tired," she allowed, though. "Had to be put back on it." All the tubes and mask and oxygen reattached. Again.

"Mmm …," Hank allowed. "His heart?"

She shook her head. "No. Just his muscles aren't strong enough yet. We'll have to keep on working at building them up."

His hand made a small motion again. A motion she wasn't sure how much was for her and how much was for him. Or if it was just for them both. Or all of them.

"We got the paperwork signed," she said. "So you can come in whenever you want."

So much paperwork. And, in all of this – it'd taken them … her … time to sign that sheet that officially gave Hank admittance when her and Jay weren't there. Not that there'd really been many gaps of any length that neither of them had been there yet. There to approve on Hank coming in when he wanted to. Or needed too. But Erin had felt his judicious, cautiousness in when and how he visited. His timing and his frequency. But she also knew – felt – that he needed to see them. He needed that time. Their presence. That reality. As part of his penance. And his healing. If he could heal from this.

He just grunted his acknowledgement. The usual Hank. "Can do some evenings, nights then. Let you and Jay get some real food and sleep."

She shrugged a little. "Yea."

It was the reasoning behind getting the forms signed. So Hank could come and go as he pleased. So they didn't need to be there when he was. He had their permission to see the babies – his grandkids – when he wanted. When he needed to. And so someone else could be in the room with them when her and Jay weren't – or couldn't be.

But she wasn't sure when that would be. She knew they both needed to get a real night's sleep. And needed time out of that situation – reality – to talk about the reality. But so far they were gutting it out. One of them had been with them for nearly the whole time – all night – spare some care and procedure and treatment times where the nurses urged them out of the room.

But leaving them – to get that sleep and to have those talks – it felt hard and scary in different ways. A bigger acknowledgement of the reality they were in. What life outside the hospital – when they got out of it – was going to look like. Feel like.

"They budge on Magoo?" Hank asked.

Erin sighed and curled over on herself a bit. "He looks about ten years old, Hank."

She felt his eyes on her. "Only a few weeks until his fifteenth."

"I know …" she muttered.

"Real anxious to see them again," Hank said. "He needs it."

"I know, Hank …," she allowed.

And she was working on it. But the hospital had its policies about visitors – and their ages. And the twins were so fragile right now. There were other families and babies in the NICU. Ones who didn't want extra people and germs parading around the area either. And she just didn't have the energy and emotional capacity to fight extra battles right now.

"He'll be fifteen in a few weeks …," she said. It should be a non-issue then. Though, that wouldn't change that Ethan looked younger than he did.

She knew – Jay or Hank – could go and argue. Pull some strings. Get Will or Goodwin or Maggie to sneak Ethan in. Or just hope they'd built enough rapport with some of the nursing and medical staff in the unit that they'd turn a blind eye. Unless someone complained.

But she didn't think Jay was ready for the extra people in the room yet either. He'd been holding Will had arm's length too. And even though they were allowing Hank the room – Jay was usually taking his own personal time and hygiene time and rest time when Hank did arrive. He wasn't quite ready to spend time with him in that way either.

And Hank must've understood the place he was in. Or what wasn't his place. He hadn't gone behind their backs and argued with the medical staff about letting Ethan in again just yet.

Erin didn't know how good it'd be for Ethan. She didn't know much of what was going on with Ethan right now.

"How is he?" she asked.

Hank's hand slowed at that and fell way from her back. It felt like a loss. A grunt was all she got. But that said enough.

She rubbed her chin against where her elbow was resting against her knee. She'd try. Talk to Jay. Talk to the head nurse. But she wasn't going to say that.

"My granddaughter?" Hank asked instead.

"Good," Erin allowed. "Still good. Her jaundice has just about cleared up."

"Mmm …," Hank grunted. "How's my man doing with that?"

"He's looking good today too."

"Doc saying any more about the heart situation?"

She shrugged a little. "Same. Hole still appears closed over. Still hear a murmur. More checks and tests this week."

Another grunt. "My girl figured out feeding yet?"

She gave him a look. A small smile. He caught it and gave her a little smack and a light knock against her knees.

"My little girl," he said but looked at her more directly. "But, you've got to eat too, Kiddo."

She exhaled quietly. Still always thought he knew what was best for her. Maybe he did. Sometimes. And then maybe a lot of other times – he just didn't. Maybe he never really had. He just did the best he could in a given moment. And that clearly didn't always work out.

"Still hasn't figured out suck and swallow," Erin allowed. Another strange phrase to add to your baby daughter – as a skill set she should learn. So she just gestured at her chest instead. "Nothing's really come in for them anyway."

Hank only made a sound. They just sat there. For a long time.

"We haven't been able to try a bottle with EJ yet. Maybe … soon …"

She didn't know what that meant. It all seemed so in flux.

"They still thinking our little girl's going to get home before him?"

Erin made a little sound. They were already saying she was likely going to be moved out of NICU and into a transitional care nursery soon. That was going to be hard enough. Splitting them up. And her and Jay having to be in separate rooms too. Knowing that one of the babies was likely going to be home before the other – it was another layer of reality that … they needed to have conversations about.

"We'll see," was all she provided. All she could manage.

And they sat there again. In silence. That wasn't uncomfortable but still felt overpowering.

"Olive's going to bring Henry over closer to dinner," Hank finally offered flatly. "Picked up some real thick butterfly chops from Gene's to throw on the grill. Got enough, if you and Jay wanted to come by for a bite."

Erin shrugged more at that.

"Need to take care of yourselves too," he offered. "Eat. Sleep. Get some time and space out of that room."

"It's Mother's Day," she said. "I should be with them."

"Can time dinner for when the nurses are coming in to do their caretaking or at shift change," he offered. Telling. Telling he'd been there. To know their schedules. To know the brief shutdowns the NICU had when they pushed visitors and parents out of the area.

"I'm taking my time out of the room now," Erin said, and then added, "Jay shouldn't have to be there alone."

Hank allowed a sound and looked at her. "How's he doing?"

And she exhaled again. "You know, Jay …," she said. "Tactical precision in high-stress operations."

"Mmm …," Hank allowed but he still stared at her.

So, "Better than me," she provided.

And that scared her too. He was … a natural. He was doing all the things it felt like you were supposed to be doing. And Erin … she felt like … a mess.

But she didn't say that.

But she must've said enough because Hank found her hand and crushed her fingers in his grip and he leaned in and put a kiss up in the hair against the side of her head.

"Erin, doing a whole lot better than you think," he said. "Got to stop being so hard on yourself."

But maybe someone needed to. Maybe that was her penance.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **Readership and reviews have really flatlined on these stories. I know there's a handful that still read. And there's still a handful of scenes that I might still write. But at this point, I think this is likely all going to become rather sporadic.**

 **Thanks to those who've read. And especially those who've reviewed or DM'ed.**

 **Enjoy your summer.**


	21. Elusive Moments

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

Jay put his hand against Erin's forehead – through her hair first. He knew she wasn't sleeping but she'd been so still and quiet. So had he. Just like he knew that even though they had the TV on and had been staring at – neither of them had been watching it and likely couldn't recite back even the basic details of what had been going on right in front of their faces.

He almost thought she wasn't likely to acknowledge his touch from the position she'd curled herself on the couch and allowed herself to lean against him as some kind of support. At least in that moment. But he could feel the tension and anxiousness radiating off her – so he also knew he was only offering so much comfort. Still, she managed a little sound that at least told him she was aware enough – hypersensitive enough – to know that he'd grazed his fingers through her hair and cupped at her forehead and temple.

"Think maybe we should go to the bedroom?" he asked.

It really was a question even though he knew it really should be more of a statement. That it was the whole reason they were home. That the nursing staff in the NICU had encouraged – if not outright pushed them out the door – to try to get them some real rest in their exhausted exhaustion.

Jay wasn't even sure exhausted exhaustion fully covered it. It'd had long nights – long days, never-ending days – in Afghanistan. He'd had some more – though different – with CPD, in Intelligence. He knew how to operate on little to no sleep. He could do twenty-nine and a day with the best of them. And Erin was definitely the best of them.

He knew she wanted to be there when their babies woke up. Every time they woke up. To be there even when they were sleeping. And he got it. He did too.

And it wasn't empathy that he'd criticized her as having too much of in the past. The kind the left nothing for yourself. Because he'd learned really quickly – felt more instantly than he'd expected possible – that when it's your kids, you give yourself. Over and over again. Day in and day out. Or at least that's the kind of father – the kind of man and parent – he was going to be. It was the kind of parent it felt right to be right now. To these two tiny little human beings – who were his.

But he still was acutely aware that both him and Erin were really staggering exhaustedly into territory where they weren't leaving much for themselves right now. They were pouring all they had – selfishly and unselfishly, as parents and as human beings dealing with their own shit that expanded way beyond the NICU – into that hospital room. That ward. Those two babies – their babies. And he could feel it seeping out of him. Bit by bit. Kind of like a balloon. This little bubble they'd made for themselves to try to get through this was starting to deflate because they were putting all their strength into just trying to hold that bubble dome up. Just trying to keep it all together. And they'd been doing that for days. Weeks. Nearly two weeks of sleeping up right. And just hardly sleeping.

And that took him back to his own … empathy. For his kids and for Erin. And back to that line he'd fed her before. It wasn't that he wanted her to care less. He didn't know how they could care less right now with those pieces of them in those incubators with all wires and tubes and machinery attached to them. With them looking so small and fragile – translucent and pink all at the same time. But still so clearly theirs. So clearly them. The little bits and pieces of each of them he could already see in their kids in his hours and hours of staring at them and rubbing their little hands and fingers and feet and toes between his own thumb and forefinger that looked so massive compared against their entire bodies. He could see them. And he could see glimpses of the Halstead features – wisps that reminded him of himself and his brother as little boys and from scattered baby photos still kicking around somewhere. Other wisps of Ethan and Henry even though he knew – logically – there shouldn't be. But there was. Just like wisps of Erin were in her brother – even though there shouldn't be.

It wasn't about caring less. It wasn't about wanting her to care less. It was about wanting her to sleep. Wanting them both to sleep. So their bubble didn't collapse around them. So they had the strength to get through the … weeks more of this.

"I think one of us should go back," Erin mumbled. She sounded so far away.

He knew she'd say that. It'd been about the only thing she'd said when he'd somehow got her to leave the NICU. To get on the elevator. To get in the car. When he'd somehow managed to get his feet and body to move that way too. He wasn't even sure how he'd done it. He wasn't even sure he remembered making the walk to the parking lot or getting into the car. Or driving to the townhouse. Of getting inside or turning on the TV. But they clearly had. They'd somehow gotten this far. In the door but not upstairs. Sitting in what had been the 'man cave' that Erin had both teased him about and not so secretly loathed. But that he already knew would become less of a 'man cave' and more of a 'family room' within the next two years. That it'd be a space filled with chaos and toys and hopefully memories and laughter. Less of a cave. A family space. A family room. That was the plan. That was how all of this was supposed to work.

But nothing was quite working exactly the way it was supposed to work yet. And even though he'd prepared himself for the twins arriving early, this still didn't meet the expectations he'd steadied himself for. He wasn't prepared for the way this felt. For the role he was having to take on for Erin. For his kids. As much as he thought he was – and as much as he was – he wasn't.

This was being a man in a different way than he'd had to be a man before. And it was riddled with emotions and feelings that he wasn't sure he'd felt in quite the ways he was feeling them. And he was trying to figure it out – who to be, how to be, as a … fiancée, not yet husband, and a father, and communicator to all these other fractions.

He gave her bicep a small rub. She tensed a little like she wasn't expecting that. Like it felt foreign or uncomfortable.

"I know," he muttered and rested his chin against the top of her head. "But they said they'd call us if there's an emergency."

"Calling us will be the last thing they do if there's an emergency," she said a bit more sternly. "We should be there if there's an emergency."

"They're stable, Erin," he said and moved his cheek to rest somewhere against her temple – the side of her head. To try to get some sort of mind-meld going that maybe would calm them both. But he really doubted it.

"Eli's not stable." And the force in her voice was gone. It was weak again.

And Jay held her closer. Because he'd seen too how up-and-down their son's vitals were. He'd stood helplessly through the alarms as the staff huddled around their baby's small body to get his breathing and heart and temperature stabilized again. He'd felt his own heart break over and over in those two weeks as they waited for their son's heart to seal over and heal. For his organs to start working the way they needed to. For him to catch up with his sister and to start following after her in their journey to get the hell out of Med. To get home. To be a family in that home that was ready and waiting for them.

"If something happens, we aren't going to get over there in time," she whispered.

And the same thought had been going through his head. Over and over. Calculating to the minute – nearly to the second – how long it'd take them to get to the truck and then to get to the hospital and to park and to get inside and to wait for the fucking elevator and to get back upstairs to their son and daughter. It was why he'd barely left the room. Why he'd barely left the hospital. Because they were in – or could end up in – a situation where seconds counted. And in that kind of situation – he wanted to be there. He needed to be there.

Eli and Mattie wouldn't be alone in a room full of strangers poking at them and making decisions for them. Erin wouldn't be alone having to make decisions – to live through those decisions – alone either.

That wasn't the kind of man or father he'd be either.

But "We need to sleep, Erin," was what he managed to offer.

He knew it. As much as he knew they weren't likely to sleep. He knew as her partner, her friend, her fiancée … her would-be husband. As a man and a father – he needed to say it. Needed to push it, no matter how anxious he felt about being out of the hospital too. How hard it would be to let his body and mind get the sleep he needed.

But she just gave her head a little shake against him.

"Er," he sighed, "your body needs the rest to heal too. It's not just about … sleep."

"I'm fine," she muttered.

Only she wasn't. Her incision wasn't closing properly. The doctors had already had to drag her out to look at it and treat it. She was having to go and get it packed because it wasn't healing as fast as it should. She was still anemic from the blood loss. And she looked it. The medications and supplements to try to keep it all under control and not span into her being re-admitted and in another hospital bed were taking their own toll. Not that she was going to admit any of that. She wouldn't. but he could see it painted all across her and the way she was carrying herself. Her complexion. She had more reason to be exhausted than him.

"Then you need to rest for …" and he gestured at her breasts with his one hand. But she did catch that out of the corner of her eye and knocked his hand and arm away before they got too close to a destination he hadn't intended to do much to. Because he also knew she was sore and raw from having the hospital-grade pump attached to her breasts every two to three hours. And because neither of them were in any kind of state of mind that any sort of breast manipulation sounded very pleasurable to either of them – in any kind of way.

And it was just … fucking ironic. Erin had been … so unsure and reluctant about breastfeeding. About relinquishing that kind of piece of herself and connection to these other beings. To be that kind of … vessel … for another human being. To the point she'd outright said she wasn't sure she'd be in a mental or emotional place that she'd be able to handle it. That she wasn't sure she even wanted to really try. And then lead them into another agonizing conversation about what exactly that said about her as a mother or her capabilities as a mother.

He'd consistently tried to check his feelings on the matter. To keep it all in check. To try to relate. To acknowledge the baggage and violations and body issues and boundaries she had from what she'd gone through when she was younger. He'd tried to acknowledge that even though he thought he could sort of relate to some aspects of that – he would never be able to really understand exactly what she was going through with carrying their kids. What mentally and emotional and physical components came into play with feeding them from your own body. So he'd just tried to be the good guy. To maintain that she needed to take care of herself first – of herself – to be any kind of mother. That that was important. So if that meant that they didn't breastfeed – then they wouldn't breastfeed. That that said she was being the best mother she knew how to be – because she was making sure she was in the best place possible to be a mother.

In the end it … it wasn't that Erin wasn't sure about breastfeeding that was creating the problem. It was that she couldn't breastfeed. The babies weren't old enough or strong enough to suckle yet. Or swallow. (Though, Mattie was starting to get it figured out.) And her breasts weren't co-operating anyway – even if … when … either of the kids had it all figured out.

The milk wasn't coming in. The doctors weren't really saying why. There was some suggestion that it was just the stress of … everything … in the situation they were in. The trauma. The early delivery. That everyone was different and sometimes it took longer for new moms than other new moms.

And it was another thing that he knew he couldn't understand exactly what Erin was feeling and going through. He knew he just couldn't. But Jay also thought he understood on some level.

Because they were his kids too. Because he was in there with the room with Erin and feeling the frustration and sadness and anger and guilt come off her in waves every two hours when she hooked herself up to that fucking machine and she barely got more than a few drops out of her breasts. He knew she thought she'd created some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy in her questioning of if she even wanted to breastfeed. Like she'd somehow managed to mentally block her breasts from producing milk. Like it was somehow her fault that she'd gone into early labor. That the doctors hadn't been able to stop the labor. That even when they had – what happened … with Al – had emotionally pushed her and her body over the edge again. Like she'd let her emotions get the better of her and that was the reasoning behind their preemies' arrivals. Born into bad news. He knew she was thinking it – even if she hadn't said it out loud.

And he knew she was being too hard on herself. Just like she always was. He could see that too. But Erin was only letting him do so much in trying to comfort her and encourage her and offer her more logical explanations for the how and why of any of it than the ones she'd let her exhausted mind and body formulate for her.

The nurses went between being congratulatory and encouraging – in such a fucking patronizing way – to again talking to them like idiots every time Erin pumped and managed to get those few drops for all her effort. It was increasingly being done in such a a tone that clearly indicated they were verging on the point they were just going to have to accept this wasn't working. Two weeks. It should've – would've – happened by now.

But that wasn't stopping Erin. That 'liquid gold' they'd toted Erin's breast milk as in the hours and days after the babies were born – she was going to get every fucking drop of it for her – their – babies even if it was just that … drops. Jay knew that she'd go through that every couple hours even if she was only getting about 2 oz a day to ooze out of her, if they were lucky. Because even that little might help their kids. Help them get strong and well and out of this fucking place and home. So she was going to do it. Because that was the kind of person she was. The kind of woman. And the kind of mother.

"I'm not going to do that," she said. And the force was there again.

And Jay sighed. Again. "I didn't mean that," he allowed.

One nurse had told them that it might help it he got 'intimate' with Erin's breasts. He wasn't entirely sure what she meant by that. And he hadn't Googled it. But it brought all kind of visions to his mind of just what that meant. Their faces must've said that because the woman had corrected and said that 'cuddling' might help relax and also stimulate the release of whatever hormone was needed to let the milk drop down.

That could be interpreted in a lot of ways too. The vast majority he wasn't sure either of them were really up to. At all.

This was about as close as they'd come to cuddling in the past two weeks. There'd be some hugs. Some tears. Touches. Hand holding. There was intimacy. Intimacy that again felt different than what they'd had before. That maybe was supposed to be – had to be – while they sat there together watching over their sick newborns.

"We could go shower," he offered. "I could help you change your dressings."

"You don't want to see that," she muttered.

"I've seen worse," he tried.

And he was pretty sure it was true. Though from what he had seen that he'd done to her in the emergency C-section and their rather botched efforts to retrieve the babies that had ultimately almost lead to Erin bleeding out. He'd felt like he was watching her slip away on that table – while he was pushed back and his babies were whisked away out of his sight before he barely got a chance to look at them. So even though he knew he'd seen worse – that he'd watched people bleed out and die before – it had been different. So fucking different. And the gut-wrenching terror in those long minutes had been real. It'd be another helpless emotion he hadn't had to cope with in quite that way before.

But he tried to tease her. He tried, "I see it now, imagine how much better it's going to look later."

She cast him a look at that. The first one she'd given him in a while. "Yea. Real sexy."

He managed a thin smile and gripped her hand. "You're amazing," he said.

Scars and baggage and all. She was approving again and again in those weeks that … she was the most amazing person he'd ever know. The strongest. A person who made him better. A better person and a better man. She made him want to be those things. Just better.

"Er, let's just call the nursing station and check on them and just try for a couple hours. Please."

She let out an annoyed huff. "Outside of … knowing I won't sleep, Jay, it hurts too much to lie flat. Or roll over. I won't sleep."

"Bet you're wishing you let me get those recliners and turn this into a real home theater den," he tried in tease again.

It got a small – unimpressed – sound.

And he held her again. "You want to go over to Hank's," he tried carefully, cautiously. "See if you can claim the recliner or Eth's bed. We can ask him to go over and be with them for us. Just for a couple hours."

He hated that solution. But it was a solution. And right now they needed those – however fucking distasteful.

And she sat there – against him – weighing it. He could feel from the weight of her against him that she was weighing it. Moving her own baggage from hand-to-hand too.

But then she shifted and gazed at him. This exhausted exhausted gaze that had some minor acceptance.

She was proving that Will was right – for once, on something. That she didn't need saving. She didn't. As much as sometimes she did. She didn't. But she'd saved him in a lot of ways. And he could at least offer her a hand because of it. Take her hand.

And he did.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **Again, no promises on the frequency any of this will be updated. Or how many more chapters there will be. It's likely not going to be many. But I'm trying to provide a bit of closure for people.**

 **Twin names:**

 **Elias James Vito. Jay and Erin will mostly call him Eli (E-lie not Ellie/Ali). Hank will likely mostly call him E.J. Vito was introduced as Camille's maiden name. A loyal reader pointed out to me that Jay's full name might be James, not Jason. I found that interesting and highly plausible in my personal experience as well. But James had been picked out prior as a middle name. Partially out of its origin meaning of "he who supplants", which I think might be appropriate for Jay's approach to the promise and purpose of fatherhood.**

 **Matilda Eloise Quinn. Jay will mostly call her Mattie. I see Erin mostly calling her Tilly and references to her as that would evolve over time, because I foresee the little girl as referring to herself under that name. I feel Ethan and Hank would pick up on the Tilly aspect. And that Hank would also shorten it to "M.E." (pronounced Emmy) regularly. For reference, Eloise would be a vague memorial to Al. Eloise is the female version of Aloysius, which has the origin of "famous warrior". It is also often shortened to El or Ellie — with El/Al meaning "loyal friend". Eloise is the correct spelling for the Germanic variant of the name, which I suspect Erin might pick as a minor shout-out to Hank's side of the family. Emmy/M.E. generally means "rival, laborious and eager", which I suspect will capture the little girl's persona. Quinn was introduced as Jay's mother's maiden name.**


	22. Get It

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

"Erin," Jay sighed out at her – trying (he knew rather unsuccessfully) to hide his annoyance, "Just … go in."

She gave him her own annoyed glance from her pounding on Hank's back door. "It's been a rough day. We don't need to get shot too."

He had to work really hard to avoid rolling his eyes at that one. "He's not going to shoot us."

"He's going to be on edge with everything," she said and pounded ever harder like that was really going to accomplish anything.

She'd been doing that for a good two or three minutes at this point. So far not even a light had flipped up above them – let alone sneaking through the curtains of the kitchen and down into the hallway. Likely a sure sign that either no one was home or that Hank was way better at compartmentalizing than the rest of them an had actually managed to find some shut eye in all of this. And sleep through Erin's knocks.

"He's likely still waiting for someone to show up and slap bracelets on him," she muttered.

"More reason not to be bringing a gun to the door," Jay muttered under his breath – just loud enough to make sure she did hear. And she did. She gave him another look.

He was getting a lot of them lately. It felt like he was walking this tight rope where nearly everything he said to her came out – or was heard by her – as a way he hadn't meant for it. Like she thought he was just patronizing her. And he didn't know shit.

And maybe he didn't. He wasn't a mother. But he was their father. And he was feeling all sorts of emotions too. And he was just trying to find solutions to make the whole situations easier for them. He was just trying to help both of them follow-up on some of the recommendations and techniques the doctors and nurses were giving them. But it seemed like about 90 per cent of the time him trying to … offer slight adjustments … to whatever she was trying to do was going over like … a lead balloon. When he was only trying to look out for all four of them. To get them out of there faster. And well.

"We should've called," Jay pressed at her instead. He'd actually said that to her before they left the house. She grunted at him while staring at her phone. A Hank grunt and a dismissal that made him think that maybe she already had. But she clearly hadn't. Not with how fucking dark and quiet the house was.

"I texted," she hissed at the door.

Jay tried to refrain from rolling his eyes. They both knew how Hank was with texts. He barely looked at them unless a bunch were rolling in in succession. Otherwise, you had to wait until he glanced at them once or twice a day – hours after you sent them.

He mustn't have restrained his eye roll that well, though, because he got another glare from Erin.

"I didn't want to wake up Ethan," she said.

And Jay didn't succeed in holding back a laugh on that one. Though, he managed to choke it back in when anger flicked across her eyes and her arms crossed. But he gestured at the door her fist had been pounding on.

"Pretty sure we've likely woke him if they're here," he provided in his own defence.

And the door opened like to support his statement. Hank stood there and gave a mild smack. Jay could tell he was attempting to rile in his annoyance – because it was Erin and he knew the situation. But Jay could also tell they'd likely woken him too. The time it'd taken to get him to the door likely already said that. But he was wearing jeans that looked worn enough they were likely already off and tossed over a bedpost. A tshirt that was untucked and of a color and cut that Jay had been around the house and family's life long enough he knew was one of Hank's extra "casual" t's that made its occasional appearances in late evenings, early mornings and weekends. Something he'd either put on to bed down for the night or had outright pulled on when he'd pulled himself out of bed to answer the door.

But Jay didn't think Erin noticed – or cared – about any of that. Instead, she'd put rather bluntly, "Can you go over and sit with Eli and Mattie for a few hours?"

It really wasn't a request. So it was likely a good thing that Hank's momentary measuring her – and the situation - up was accompanied by a grunt of ascent. And Erin also apparently took it as invitation to go inside because she was already nudging passed him.

"Is Ethan in his bed?" she mumbled.

It got another grunt as Hank's eyes followed her still slightly wounded gait through the kitchen.

"Yea …," he allowed.

Erin made a slightly disappointed noise at that but still continued her beeline through the house. Hank's eyes drifting back to him and gesturing into the house.

Jay let himself step inside. It was the first time he'd been in there since … all of this. Again. The twins. Al.

And he was still trying to decide … how he felt about any of it. All of it. Again.

What it meant for his relationship with, and perspective of, Hank. Again. Both here – as a family. And at work.

And there was this part of himself that felt almost angry that he sort of understood why certain decisions had been made. Why things had gone the way they had. Even if not all of it lined up with his morals and his convictions – he could frame some of the actions. He could understand some of the motivations. And the sacrifices that had been made.

Jay knew what it was like to have a friend who was more than just a friend. A friend that you loved. Your best friend in the whole fucking messy situation you were in. A friend that was your ally and your confessor and your priest and your shrink all in one. A friend that gave up themselves – and their lives – for you.

He'd had it happen.

He'd had it happen more than once. He'd watch guys – his friends, his brothers – lay down their lives for him. Watched them shot. Watched them blown up. Watched them bleed out. Watched them tortured. For him. For their unit. And he'd never really felt he was worth it. That they should've done that for him.

Jay'd always felt like – had gone into it almost expecting, maybe halfway hoping – that he'd be one of the ones to go. He'd be one of the ones to do that. To take the bullet. To jump on the IED. To walk into a camp of militants. To wear the bag over his head. To take what he had coming to him. To die for something or for someone. For people he loved – and who had always felt worth more than him.

And he knew what that did to you. Carrying that. When you lost that best friend. When you were the one left behind. And you had to look into their faces. Into their eyes. And know that there were so many people who also wished you were the one who died with their knees in the sand. Not their loved one. Not their husband or father or brother or uncle or son.

It wasn't an easy path. It wasn't something you ever really came back from. Even though in Hank's case he knew – he could understand – some of the whys behind Al doing what he'd done. Taking the fall. Skirting a deal.

Jay understood having those demons. Where you felt like you didn't have much to live for. Like others deserved life and their loved ones more than you. And he understood that Al had made his choices not just because of Hank. He'd made them because of Erin and him and Ethan and Henry and likely Eli and Mattie, who he'd never get to meet. But Jay also suspected that Al – even if he felt like he was ready to go – had also expected Hank to maybe find a way to save him. Somewhere in there there's always this hope that … you'll get through. Even when you don't feel much like going forward anymore. You're hoping for someone to carry you.

But none of them had carried O. It'd been Al who'd carried them. And now that was something Hank had to live with. It was something they'd all have to live with.

And even though that was a set of emotions – and fucking trauma, and PTSD – that Jay knew. Even though he sort of understood what had happened it why – there was this other part of him that knew it wasn't something you could readily forgive. And it wasn't something you ever really forgot.

So – he didn't know how to feel about Hank right now. How to hurt for him or to be angry at him. To want to support him and to want his support. To treat him as a boss. Or as family. Or how to look at him in all of this.

There was blame. Blame the guy was going to carry.

And blame that he knew even after they slowly managed to move away from all of this – was never going to go away. There'd be moments where Jay knew that he'd be watching Hank play with his kids and he'd want to loath him. He'd want to keep him away from his son and his daughter.

But he also knew Mattie and Eli existing where going to be some sort of reminder and penance for Hank the rest of the life. They were going to be people he was going to have to look in the eye. And figure out how to be whatever he was going to be. How to live his life now.

And he was getting it. Getting it more and more anymore. Like pieces of some puzzle falling into place. This fucking enlightenment of how Hank had grown into the person he was. Some of those grey areas didn't feel quite as dark. They were lighter. Those convictions that were becoming more understandable in how the guy ticked.

Because Jay had seen what his life had felt like – what it'd become – in the four months Erin had been gone from it. In the year of doing a long distance relationship that went through periods of not feeling like much of a relationship. Of the terror that had set over him with all that blood and all the beeping and all the doctors rushing into the OR during the C-section. When he'd thought he was going to lose her that night too.

Jay couldn't imagine losing her. He didn't want to. She was his best friend now. His partner and his confidant. His confessor and his shrink. His supporter. Someone he'd been the most imitate with in his life. As much as he could manage. And he knew if anything ever happened – if he lost her – he'd near him apart. And even in these two weeks of them having kids, he knew it'd rip out the heart of their family too. That it'd never be the same. That the loss would be even more palpable.

And that's what had happened to Hank. He'd lost all that in his wife. His family had lost that. His kids had lost that.

And then he'd gone on to lose more. After making sacrifice after sacrifice for his kids. And Jay thought he was already understanding that too. In a way he wasn't sure he'd know how. Because that hadn't been the way he'd been brought up. That wasn't the kind of father his dad was. But Jay already felt it with his kids. That he'd do anything. He'd do anything right now if there was someway to make this better – them better. To make it easier on them. And it wasn't a black-and-white emotion. It wasn't right and wrong. It was just this fucking urge. One that almost made your convictions shift. Your willingness to do things. The way you pushed. What you stood for. And who you stood for. Because they were your kids. You were their father. They depended on you. Your family depended on you. And your job was to make it work. To take care of them.

And he got that too. Now. More than he ever had.

So he was trying – really fucking trying – to be some kind of understanding. As supportive as he could manage. Because he got it – even the parts he didn't want to get and the parts he so fucking hated the guy for. Because Hank wasn't just his boss. He was family. This was family. It was what he had. Who he had. For his kids. And his kids deserved – needed family.

He just had to fucking hope that Hank was going to find it in himself to be the kind of family Eli and Mattie needed. The kind of family – and grandfather – he knew Hank could be. Even though the guy seemed to find as many banana peels – and purposely jump right fucking on top of them – as he accused Erin of.

But that night – it had to be neither here nor there. He had to place his trust in the guy to be the family they had. To be the grandfather he had proven with Henry he could be. To be the kind of family man – and NICU overseer – that Jay knew he could manage after his years of managing Eth's care.

So he needed to focus on that.

"She doesn't think she'll be able to sleep laying flat," Jay provided. "Think she was hoping to claim Eth's bed."

Hank made a quiet acknowledgement of that and glanced out back before shutting the door and following him into the kitchen.

"You eat today?" he again gestured dismissively at the fridge.

And Jay more than clocked that it wasn't a question of he – they – had ate dinner. It was more of a question of they'd eaten at all that day. And the truth was – Jay didn't really know. He didn't have much of an appetite.

He'd lost most concept of time beyond that it felt like every hour and every day seemed to drag on forever. He wasn't clocking time on his watch anymore. It was all based around Erin's pumping schedule. And when the nurses came in to do the care of the twins. How long Mattie and Eli could tolerate being held before their lungs or muscles got too tired. Before they needed to go back in the incubator to bring up their core temperature again.

When food was involved, it was usually him reminding Erin to get – only to get dirty looks like he was again being patronizing. The food they were having was whatever the nurses had brought in to the room for them in their not-so-subtle efforts to try to ensure they were taking care of themselves too. But Jay knew they were doing fairly poorly at that. Even his trips down to the cafeteria was mostly just to consume coffee. And if the caffeine enemas they were giving to the babies could somehow just be tapped as a poor caffeine line and dripped into his body too – he'd likely just about taking them up on that offer at this point.

"I'm okay," was all he said. Even though he knew Hank would have leftovers and real food in the fridge. More real than he'd seen in weeks. But he still didn't think he could stomach it.

"Want something to drink?" Hank offered instead.

And Jay just gave his head a shake. "I might make a coffee in a while. I was sort of hoping to get a bit of rack time too."

Hank grunted again. "That need to go in the fridge?"

He stared at him in vague confusion. Maybe it was more exhausted confusion and it must've showed because Hank gestured at what he was holding in his hand and Jay glanced down at the realization that he was still toting around the breast pump with the bottles still dangling from it.

"Oh … yea …," he mumbled and reached to twist the bottles off it. But by the time he got the first off, he'd realized that neither of them had thought to bring the lids. And his delayed processing in how to deal with that must've again showed on his face because Hank was over taking the bottle from him and pulling a piece of Saran wrap and a rubber band over the top of it. "Thanks," Jay mumbled again.

It just got another grunt while he twisted off the other bottle. But he could see Hank glancing into the bottle he already had.

"The hospital pump works better," Jay said – maybe a little defensively for both their sakes. "We just … in case she wants to pump."

It only earned a sound of acknowledgement and Hank handed him the covered bottle and took the other one from him. It had even less than the first.

"Camille had trouble with all this too," he graveled at him as he worked. Not looking at him. "Inverted nipples," Hank said and Jay just stared the back of his head trying to weigh if that was too much information about a woman he'd never met or if it was just they were so far beyond that. "Justin just couldn't seem to get enough. Cried and cried. Colic."

Jay allowed a nod. He'd heard aspects of that story before. From Erin. Just that Justin was colic. That it sounded awful. That she hoped the twins weren't colicky. Though, right now, he was near certain either of them would take colic over what they were going through. What their kids were going through. And beyond the slight nod – he couldn't really formulate anything more than that. He didn't know he wanted to. Because as much as he knew Hank was just trying to provide some sort of relational support – he just didn't want to hear it. Because it really wasn't the same.

"Then with E, preemie too, not as much as your guys," Hank got out.

And Jay didn't even realize he'd said it but somehow, "Do you think that contributed to his M.S.?" came out of his mouth.

And it hung there. Both of them realizing they'd spoken and maybe just a touch surprise he had.

Finally Hank just said, "Don't know. Don't think the doctors or researchers really know either."

And Jay knew that. He felt himself nod again. And again he didn't know what more to say. He'd said more than he'd meant to. Than he realized he was going to. He'd tipped his hand a bit. But Hank must've known they were in a wait-and-see period that wasn't just going to last the days and weeks their kids were in the hospital. This could span to months and years of waiting to see what implications their premature birth and emergency delivery had.

He was trying not to dwell on it. He'd just drive himself crazy. They'd drive themselves crazy. Like they would spend their kids while babyhood and childhood waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it was better to just deal with the now. The moment. Getting them through this. They'd deal with the next steps – future issues – later.

But he also knew him and Erin, both, were acutely aware there were more concerns about Eli. The placenta. Less blood. Less oxygen. Less space. His color when they'd taken him out of Erin's womb. He'd looked grey next to Mattie's translucent pink body. He'd looked sick. And he was. Far more than his sister. And if that turned around in the next couple weeks or it had implications and followed him through the rest of his life still remained to be seen.

But Hank would know all that. He'd get it. Just like Jay was doing his best to get … Hank's … situations. His choices. The way he ticked and why.

"They're likely telling you that the kids getting here early doesn't have anything to do with the breast milk coming in," Hank provided and Jay only shrugged. "Gave us the same lines. But E was only a few weeks early and just didn't seem to come in. Not with the pumping and the kid wouldn't take her breast."

It seemed strange too how … not strange … it felt to be talking about the breasts of these women who'd mothered their kids.

"All the stuff they had hooked up to him, went through this whole oral aversion thing. Picky eater from the start. Ended up just being easier getting him on a bottle. Both of the boys. Maybe worked out better that way," he said and handed that second bottle back to him. "Get to help out more. Share the load."

"Yea …," Jay allowed. But he didn't think Erin would really want to hear that perspective or pep talk. He wasn't sure it was much of a pep talk. But Hank didn't exactly do pep talks. He talked at you. Sometimes it was insightful. Or supportive. But it didn't exactly build you up. But there wasn't much you could say or do to talk up the current situation.

"How you doing with all this?" Hank rasped at him when he turned his back to put the drops Erin had managed to collect into the fridge.

"I'm okay," Jay provided again. He was and he wasn't. But he wasn't in the right mind frame to try to formulate anything else beyond that either.

Hank just grunted in something that didn't sound like complete acceptance. More just an acknowledgement that he'd said something.

"You planning on extending your leave?" Hank asked instead.

Jay gave a small shrug and leaned against the counter next to the fridge.

Hank nodded and crossed his arms to lean against his own side of the kitchen. "Know with the babies in the hospital, should get your paperwork in for FMLA."

Clear statement. Not a question or suggestion.

"I've got it covered," Jay said.

Hank grunted and stared at him. "You want to try to tap into any furlough or baby furlough, can see if I can get it pushed through for you."

Jay just looked at him. "That mean they're letting you keep your command?"

Hank made a small – almost amused sound – at the little jab and gazed at the floor with slumped shoulders until he gave his own shrug and got his eyes again.

"If the Ivory Tower decides they want to give me part of the summer off while they get their shit in order," he shrugged and smacked, "sure don't mind getting some time with my son and grandkids."

Jay just held his eyes. "They're benching you?"

It only got another smack.

But it was likely a given when they had two witnesses saying Voight had shot a guy with his hands up in the air. When Jay got the impression that Antonio hadn't been able to find it in him to back Hank this time. Because as much as Dawson and Voight had some things in common, they were different men and different cops. And Antonio hadn't been able to … get … the decisions and actions Voight had taken and made. Given the circumstances it was likely a miracle they hadn't benched Voight and taken his badge in the past two weeks. That they'd let the whole situation fester this long. In the giant mess the department had gotten itself into – with all of this. With Woods and Al and Hank and Adam all in the mix. The rest of them all mixed up in it in their own ways too.

"Want me to say something to Antonio?" Jay offered – carefully.

Because he really didn't know what he wanted to say. Or how to say it. If he wanted to be involved at all. Even though he felt involved – whether he liked it or not.

Because there was a part of him that could understand Antonio's prespective on it all. Because Jay didn't really want to pick sides. But he could already tell this was all going to be about picking sides. They were going to be asked who they stood with and why. It was going to end up being some kind of statement about the kind of person they were and the kind of cop they were. And that was going to follow them for the rest of their careers with the CPD – if any of them were going to be allowed to have much of one in the fallout of all of this.

Jay wasn't even in the bullpen right now and he could already tell – feel – that sides were being picked. There was going to be a Voight camp and a Dawson camp. And it was going to be a line in the sand that might tear what was left of the unit apart. It was going to be hard for all of them to bounce back from too.

He could tell Ruzek was going to fall in Voight's camp. That Atwater was going to go over to Dawson's. Kim was up in the air and it was going to tear her apart. She'd come along way but she wasn't quite there yet. Maybe it'd be Platt who'd get there there. Over that line and she'd move up to Hank's. Eventually. And then there was Upton.

Jay knew that Hailey didn't want to pick sides. That she just wanted to do the job. To be the job. And he understood that. He'd been like that too. But that wasn't how the job worked. It especially wasn't how it worked in Intelligence and under Voight. And, even though his feeling was that Hailey would and up standing alongside Voight, Jay also wouldn't be shocked if she went to Dawson's side either. Because that was the kind of cop she wanted to be. The kind of morals and convictions she wanted to say she lived by. The kind of person she was. But Jay – a year into knowing her – wasn't sure it was actually who she was despite how much she wanted it. She had experience in the game that was policing. There was Upton the cop and Hailey the person. And, Jay knew a lot like Kim, it was going to eat at her a bit deciding where she stood. Or who she was going to take down in her decision.

Jay wasn't sure anyone needed to take anyone down in this. He was pretty sure they were at the point they'd all be doing it to each other – both purposely and inadvertently. He'd watched the tension and disillusionment and anger and personal interfering with professional all fucking year. Their unit wasn't as tight as it used to be. They'd all been broken in their own ways and it'd come onto the job. It was showing. Their work family had a whole lot of cracks in it.

"Should talk to Ruzek," Hank said instead of answering his question. "And your partner. Both of them been asking more questions than they should about you and yours if they're going to have their heads on the job."

Jay just took his own beat to examine the ground at that. Apparently too long.

"How you doing with all this?" Hank asked.

"I'm okay," Jay muttered and looked back up. Hank just hummed something at him and continued to examine him – scrutinize him. "Look, not to push you out of your own door, but she's not going to shut her eyes until she knows someone is over there with them."

Hank grunted some acknowledgement again and walked over to the table, retrieving the keys from hanging on a hook above it. Made a move like he was going to go out the backdoor then and there, but then gave him a glance.

"Lots of people are going to be asking you now how Erin and the babies are doing, Jay," he said to him. "Make sure you keep some people close who ask you how you're doing. And give them an answer when you do." He jiggled the keys and then shrugged at him a bit. "Makes things a bit easier. Save yourself some trouble and some pain in the long run."

And then he was out the door and stomping down the porch steps while Jay still stood there in the kitchen staring at the shut and locked exit.

Because he got it. And so did Hank. As much as they could. Even when it hurt and blurred in the whole fucking process – of figuring out who you were and where you stood and how to just fucking navigate it. But they both got that too.


	23. Pulling Back the Curtain

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

Erin stumbled slightly as she stepped into Ethan's room. There was a small yelp and a movement and she gazed down to see Bear squirrelling away from her and looking at her with hurt eyes.

She reached down and rubbed between his ears. "Sorry …" she apologized – to a dog.

But it was her brother's dog. His guard dog. Or maybe more his service dog. A near constant companion. Though, apparently he'd been regulated to the floor. But if Hank had come down from Ethan's bedroom – even though it was long past her little brother's typical lights out, but she also knew that didn't mean much of anything – Bear likely had been banned from the bed. And apparently had felt he hadn't achieved a viable window of opportunity to jump up with his boy yet – at least without getting caught.

Or maybe there just wasn't enough room in that bed for him. Which didn't bode well for her trying to claim a spot in the twin, raising bed either. If there wasn't room for Bear – there definitely wouldn't be much room for her.

Erin found herself gazing through the dark – just the streetlights peaking through the open blinds and cracked windows trying to get a spring breeze into there.

Despite who small the twin bed really was, Ethan still always managed to look so small in that bed. In any hospital bed. Something she was learning didn't change. That your kids looked as small and fragile in them as newborn babies – and they still did as teenaged boys. And that stung. It scared her a little. Maybe a bit more than a little.

She'd been hoping to claim that bed, though. Really hoping. Hoping that Ethan would be passed out in his dad's bed or on the couch downstairs. That was still the usual routine. Or a developed habit that Hank didn't seem too interested in breaking. And maybe she could understand that more now too. More than she had. It didn't seem quite as ridiculous – because when your child was sick it was hard to move away from their bedside, even for self-care. Even when you knew you needed the sleep. Even when you knew it was reaching the point of being ridiculous. That they could survive a few minutes – a few hours – without you. But it wasn't about questioning that – it was about not being there if something happened. When – if – something happened. Because you were supposed to be there.

That was the mantra Hank had apparently ingrained in her about what parenting was and what family was. Be there. Just be there for them. Something that she'd seen the good and bad of. How her own mother had failed in that aspect so badly. The slip-ups that Hank himself had made in following his own advice and how each of them had paid in some way. And how her own previous choices and actions had had implications on her place and relationships in the family too.

And, again, now it was so different. It wasn't just younger brothers or the people who raised her or the people she worked with or a baby nephew she'd be letting down if she wasn't there. It was her own flesh and blood in a very different and real way. This redefinition of family – and what being there actually meant. And as much as she had not wanted becoming a mother to suddenly define her and to become this huge part of her being and identity – she was already experiencing how it changed you. It shifted you – and your priorities. What your wants and needs are. Where your responsibilities lay.

She moved over to the desk chair pulled over to her brother's bedside. Another clear indication that for whatever reason – or just because he was his father – Hank had been at Ethan's bedside that night. She saw a paperback flipped on his nightstand to keep his page. She knew Hank had likely been reading to him. Another giveaway.

Erin exhaled and lowered herself into that dated, hard, uncomfortable chair.

Bear's big head was immediately in her lap. His big sad eyes still looking at her through the dim light. So deep and concerned. And she got the sense they weren't just about her brother that night. They were looking right through her. Right at her.

She scrubbed at his fur for a minute. But only a minute, as she reached and lifted the book off the stand to squint through the dim light at the cover. It was a Jack London. Appropriate for a boy of summer – Camille's outdoor buddy – and his dog.

She knew it was likely Hank's pick. The books that got read aloud to Ethan were. This little ritual of Daddy reading to his sons at bedtime on the nights he was home from work had evolved into a way to whittle away hours in hospitals and something to do in the even more hours sitting and watching over your sick child – at home or otherwise.

And Erin got that now more too. What she'd previously thought was a bit of a monotone ploy to lull Justin and Ethan to sleep held more meaning now. Already.

She got it. She got that you didn't want to reach for your phone and become absorbed in it while you were keeping watch of your kids. That you weren't keeping watch if you were. You weren't there. And, she didn't think anything in the news or social media would provide any sort of escape anyway. Instead it'd just be a sad reminder of the kind of world you'd brought your children into when they were already fighting an uphill battle. And even when you knew life was unfair – there were times you just didn't need to be reminded of that reality even more. You just weren't in the mental or the emotional place to be able to process and compartmentalize that and deal with it for what it was. Just life.

But she also knew there were just points in those hours and hours of sitting that you couldn't stare at them anymore. So her and Jay were already reading to them.

The Narnia collection. Jay had gone home for a shower one day and come back with the battered box set. The only context she'd been given was that it was his grandfathers and he'd gone and got it from the cabin over that winter. Which she believed, because they certainly smelled like it – to the point she'd briefly considered telling him that the mildew and potential mould that had leeched into the tattered pages shouldn't be near the babies.

But she was glad she hadn't. Because she'd seen the magic of it – again, a parent reading to their child – not the adventures on the pages.

Erin could tell – feel – the bond that Jay and Eli were creating already. And part of her felt like she knew what that looked like years down the road when this was what their early days looked like. She'd seen it. All these little bits and pieces she remembered about Ethan's first weeks and Camille in the hospital and seeing Hank as a father in a different way. But they'd only had to deal with weeks then. This felt different.

And more different – because it was Jay. And it was Eli and Mattie.

She could see – feel – too, that whatever expectations Jay had about himself as a father or what that meant were shifting and changing too. That this just didn't meet whatever expectations either of them had. It felt different. It was hitting them in different ways. They were scrambling and grappling and just trying to figure it out and deal.

Whatever – however – Jay had pictured himself as a father to a son was changing. It'd be forever changed, she knew, from these early days and weeks and months. From the way Jay was holding their baby boy and talking to him. And from the way Eli just calmed and settled differently against Jay – especially when he was against the rumble and vibrations of his bare chest as Jay read from those books. They both did – but Eli it was different. He wanted Daddy.

Eli settled and calmed differently for Jay. His heart rate and body temperature and breathing stabilized and maintained for longer. Jay was being able to hold their son longer than she could because of it. Bond with him in a different way.

Part of her loved to watch it. In other ways it hurt – like Eli had already picked Jay and it was because he was placing some kind of blame on her for the whole situation. She knew it was irrational. But these days sometimes it was hard to be rational.

Ethan stirred a little in the bed and she stared at him. She reached and put the book back on his bedside table and he stirred some more until his eyes flickered open and he squinted at her, his brow creasing in confusion.

"Hey …," she offered quietly. She didn't want him to get confused or shocked – to think his eyes or the medication or his brain and disease were playing tricked on him again and creating figured that weren't there in his vision. His mom.

"Erin … ?" he mumbled a bit, his eye lids stirring a bit more.

"Yea …," she allowed and measured him. "Think there's any room for me in there?"

It took him a moment to process that but he nudged over and she hauled herself back up and situated herself next to him in the bed. She'd barely settled before Ethan had nudged back across the mattress and curled against her, his arm draping over her in a half hug and his head dropping somewhere between her shoulder and breast.

Erin felt herself make a small sound of discomfort at his adjustment but caught herself and sucked it back a bit. "Careful," she told him, but let her arm come up and around him too.

She wanted him – needed him to be careful – but even with his initial cuddled into her, she knew how much she needed it. And how much he likely needed it too.

It'd been these other things that she'd felt like the curtain had been drawn back on the past few weeks. She was experiencing the comfort and calm that having your kids cuddle into you and root against you brought. It wasn't even just the emotional closeness and relief it brought. She was seeing the complete physiological changes it brought. Not just for the babies – for her. For Jay too. Whatever hormones that it released. That it didn't just feel good. It was also about only after she got to hold her babies that she managed to get her body to cooperate and drip out some breast milk.

There was so much to it – to holding her own babies and to watching Jay getting to hold them as a father – that made her realize all over again, in such a different way, how much she'd missed out on growing up. The kind of affection and touch and bonding and relationships from her mother or from whoever her father was. That she really hadn't even known what hugs were – real hugs – until she'd been with the Voights for more than a year and she'd let down her guard enough to allow that kind of touch and affection.

She'd grown to know what a hug and cuddle – and small signs of affection – could do to lift the load and lighten the mood and to offer comfort and support. To make you feel important and wanted in another person's life. And she'd learned – and felt it – again with having two younger brothers in her life. With having a baby brother who'd never hesitated to look for cuddles and affection from her. That he still did now.

But that reality was shifting too. She'd always known she wasn't exactly just a sister to Ethan. She'd known that had shifted since Camille had been gone. Her and Hank had had the conversations – said and unsaid – about her being Ethan's female role model. About her mothering him. But she'd always looked at it through the lens of her responsibilities and role and trying to defining it. Now there was this quiet realization about what Ethan had needed and was looking for from her too. How much he needed that physical comfort from her – as a woman and as family, because his mom wasn't there to give it in that way. That the hugs and cuddles and affection … it had more layers to it. Pieces he was missing and trying to fill too.

"Does it still hurt?" he whispered at her as he settled and stilled more gently.

She caressed at his bare shoulder. His skin felt hot – bordering feverish. "A little," she allowed. "It's just sore. Like a bad, deep bruise."

"That sucks," he said sympathetically.

She hummed in agreement. It did. But it was the least of her worries.

"Did it hurt when they did it?" he asked.

She hummed again. But it caused tears to sting at the back of her eyes. She hadn't been able to fully process that day yet. It was a complete mess of fractured memories and moments and emotions that all just felt too overwhelming to even begin to understand yet.

And she didn't want to try to put any of it into words right now. Instead she just let her hand trail down her brother's back in an effort to hold him a bit tighter. Because as much as he needed it, she did too. She was having a renewed appreciation for just how much – how healing – being close to the ones you were closest to could be. And she needed that right now.

Her hand stopped as it grazed across packed gauze and a medical plaster. He'd had a lumbar puncture.

Ethan stirred a little at her discovery. She could feel him frowning against her shoulder.

"Dad said not to tell you 'cuz you've got 'nuf to worry 'bout right now."

She rested her chin against where his head was and creased into her own frown. "I asked your dad—"

"He's your dad too," Ethan allowed flatly.

She rested her cheek against the top of his head. "I asked Daddy to go and sit with Eli and Mattie for a while. Is that okay or do you need him here?"

"I'm okay …"

She held him a bit more closely. "You're really hot. When did Dad check your temperature last?"

She felt him shrug against her. "It just hurts a bit," he said. "And I have a headache."

"Okay …," Erin allowed, clocking that. Though, she knew Hank mustn't have been worried or he would've said something. She hoped. "You should be laying on your back," she prodded.

But Eth shook his head and clung to her a bit tighter.

"Okay …," she allowed again and moved her hand back to put some additional light pressure against the packing.

"There's another one down on my leg and ankle," Ethan said quietly.

"Why?" she asked.

There was another shrug against her but he spoke anyway. "They wanna look at some other kinda nerves. For the plaques and lesions. 'Cuz they think some of the stuff might mean there's some other nerve thing going on too. Like another disease making the progression go faster. Or something." And it stopped with another shrug.

And she tried to process but her mind just couldn't right now. All she managed was, "So these are part of the diagnostics ahead of your one-year follow-up?"

His cheek rubbed against she shoulder in a vague nod.

She held him again. "When's that appointment?"

"I don't know," he muttered. "Like a month. But Dad said 'gain not to bug you 'bout it."

She held at his shoulder. "I'll be there this time, Eth," she promised.

"Will you and the babies be home by then?" he asked.

She frowned. "I don't know, Eth," she said. "I think they're likely going to keep them until at least their original due date."

"So Memorial Day," he said. "Soon."

She frowned again. "That was just when they were planning to deliver them. It will likely be more like when they would've been 40 or 42 weeks. Into June."

"Dad says Tilly might get to come home sooner," he said. "Soon … ?"

She allowed an exhale. "Maybe," she conceded. "It's really going to depend on … they need to … reach all these milestones. To be able to do lots of stuff on their own before it's safe for them to come home."

Ethan was quiet, until he said. "I just really want all you to be home."

And her eyes stung a bit more. "Me too …," she whispered out.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **This chapter was getting long, so splitting it. Will try to update the rest of it in the next few days. It will be a continuation and conversation-heavy between Erin and Ethan.**

 **Readership, comments, reviews and feedback appreciated.**


	24. Injustices

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

"Dad said he hasn't got to hold the babies yet," Ethan ventured carefully.

Erin allowed a slow exhale again. "No," she managed. "Not yet."

"I think he really wants to hold the babies," Ethan said and she felt him shift to try to stare at her. "Like real bad."

"I know," Erin sighed.

Again, rationally, she knew that Hank saying anything to Ethan was likely in the context of trying to calm her brother's anxiousness to get in for a visit and to see the babies – to hold them himself. But, instead she was latching onto the underlying tone – the truth – that was likely in there somewhere. Hank's needs and wants in all of this too. Where he was at.

And as much as part of her just didn't care – she also did. She knew he was struggling in his own very big and real way right now too. But she also knew that with the kind of man and person and cop and father Hank was – he wouldn't tell her that. He'd do his best to not even let on. To hide from her was much as he could what was going on with his life and Ethan's life and the rest of their family's lives and on the job. That he'd be doing that in some way now for … always. Because he knew her attention needed to be in other places.

He always thought he knew what was best. For her. For navigating life.

Sometimes she didn't know. Still, now. She didn't. As much as he'd built her life and saved her life. As much as the twelve and thirteen and fourteen year old girl in her somewhere still wanted to believe that statement – she also had another lifetime of experience that told her he didn't know best. That told her as much as he tried to protect her and direct her, it usually hurt and caused stress in other ways.

Like now. Like so much of right now. Where she knew what he was doing and why – but in the moments she let herself come up for air out of that little bubble they were trying to keep breathing in at the hospital – she ended up just feeling more stressed. Worried about Hank and his job. What that meant for Jay – and what that meant for their family and their income and caring for preemie babies. What it meant for Ethan's health. What was even going on with Ethan's health. That just as she was re-establishing herself in the city and presence in the family and importance and availability in his life – and her extended family's life – Hank was making the decision for her about the flow of information. About what she would and wouldn't be allowed to know. What she would and wouldn't be allowed to attend. Just like before.

"The babies are just still pretty fragile right now," was all she muttered back to Ethan. An explanation. The truth.

An unstated larger truth – that she wasn't sure when Jay would be agreeable to letting anyone hold either of the babies. He was barely letting anyone come into the room yet. Even his brother, which part of her appreciated given Will being Will. She didn't think either of them needed his self-righteous bullshit and holier-than-thou, know-it-all assessment of how they should be managing the care of their babies and time in NICU.

Jay had locked down into protection mode. They might as well be dug in with just that glass, sliding door protecting them from the enemy at the gates. Sniper on the ready. He even hovered so close to some of the nurses while they were in the room that he'd been asked to give them some space.

But as well as Jay seemed to be settling into a Papa Grizzly Bear role – and as confident he seemed when he came to holding the twins – Erin could see and feel the nervousness seeping off him in other ways. The lock-down was part of it. But it was more the guilt and grief that was rolling off him. Anger and sadness that she could tell he didn't know where to project and was trying to lockdown on too. And she knew the helplessness of the situation would be bugging him just as much as it was her. Maybe more. There were moments she could see in his glassy, far-off looks that he was triggering and was fighting so hard to lock that down too and to stabilize himself in the fucking unpredictable moment(s) they were in.

That was part of the lockdown they were in. Part of his reluctance to let anyone in and anyone near the babies just yet. So much more so than the thought of germs and fragility. She knew it. But she wasn't sure Jay had entirely admitted it to himself.

Instead, he was trying to find ways to be of use and to feel less helpless. In a lot of ways that was hard in NICU. And feed into the lockdown even more. So much was out of their control – something that both of them struggled with so much. It became just controlling something – people in and out of that room, who got near their babies, who … when … they'd let anyone hold the babies.

"But if Tilly is doing good and reaching … milestones and stuff," Ethan tried, "maybe Dad can hold her?"

Erin exhaled and stared up through the darkness. She wanted to talk – to be with her brother for a while. But she also didn't. She wanted to be able to shutdown just enough to try to sleep for a while. And to do that she needed to try … to just not think about what was going on in that NICU room for a while. To really, really try. And that was going to be hard. It's not something you turn off. Instead it was more like waiting for the exhaustion to become so overwhelming it engulfed you because that was all your body was capable of anymore. And that wasn't exactly healthy either.

"How's Dad doing?" she asked, because Hank wouldn't tell her.

And maybe Ethan wouldn't either. Maybe his filter was getting better with age. Maybe he was picking up on his dad's methods of protection. Or his selective sharing of information.

"He's sad," her brother finally said.

"Yea …," Erin allowed. That was likely the easy answer. The predictable one. One that she hadn't really needed to be told but she'd hoped to get a little bit more than that.

"A couple nights he's drunk too much," Ethan said quietly.

"What's that mean?" Erin asked. And the quiet hung there again. "Ethan …," she pressed.

And it was another long pause. Like he couldn't tell her. Or maybe more he was betraying his dad.

"I think he must've had to sit on the floor to take off his boots," Ethan said. And paused. "I guess he fell asleep … or passed out. He doesn't know I saw."

And that hung too. Hung until Erin just hung onto her brother.

"Alvin was his best friend," she said. "And it's always really hard when you lose someone at work."

"It wasn't at work," came out of Ethan's mouth in absolute monotone.

"It wasn't …," Erin agreed. And she didn't know what more to say to that or how to frame it. Or if Ethan even really needed her to or wanted her to.

"You can't get sad about the day," Ethan said. "Not like your birthday and your friend. Or Henry's birthday and J. It can't be like EJ and Tilly and Al now too."

Erin bit at her lower lip and tried to steady herself. "We're really trying to separate the two, Eth. I think it's just hard for everyone right now."

"You don't have to separate it," he said. "But … Dad says … he says I make him think about happy things about Mom. And Henry about Justin. So … so EJ and Tilly … we need to think about happy things too. About Uncle Alvin."

Erin nodded a little and held at him. "You're right."

"Dad does a lot better on the days he gets to come and see you guys," Ethan said. "He isn't drinking those days. And … I think … he'd start feeling even better if he gotta hold EJ and Tilly. I know he really wants to."

"Eth … I just need to … think about … talk about something else for a while."

And he was quiet. It was too quiet. Quieter than she wanted it to be either.

"Like what?" he finally asked.

"I don't know," she said. "Just … tell me … all of it. Everything. Anything else."

He was quiet again and she didn't think he was going to say anything. So she didn't think she was going to sleep either. That her brain wasn't going to turn off yet. She didn't know it could.

"Dad says I don't have to do summer school this year," he muttered.

"Your teachers don't think you need it?"

Ethan shrugged. "Dad says he's just not going to fight with me about school anymore. That I'll have to live with the consequences of my own choices."

And Erin tried to let herself absorb that. But it was telling where Hank was at too. Just how exhausted and done he was in his own right. Because school – education – was something he argued with his kids about. Something he brow beat them about. Something that he'd held at almost more importance than Camille. And something that none of their kids had really lived up to in the ways that either of them had likely hoped for given the opportunities they'd tried so hard to make for them.

But Erin just held at her brother's thin shoulder. "I know right now you don't think you're going to go to college, or … have the kind of job that you maybe hoped you'd get … but I really want you to … think about your education as a whole and try to hear what your teachers—"

"I hate school," Ethan said. "And all the teachers at Iggy's. I'd rather just work this summer. And keep doing my stuff at Field."

"Do you have a job lined up for the summer?" she pressed at him.

He shrugged. "I can work in the store at Field or at the snack bar at RIC."

"And you think that's going to be the best use of your summer vacation?"

"It's a job," Ethan said. "And money."

Erin sighed at him and rubbed his back. "I'm pretty sure your connects at both those places would be more than understanding about giving you a few hours a week so you could still do some catch-up credits or … something … more productive with your time."

"What's wrong with working in retail?" Ethan pressed.

"Nothing, Ethan," she said firmly. "It's just …"

They wanted him to live his life. To have a life. To prepare for a life he may not get to have. And … there were just other fucking better ways to use his time.

She didn't know how to say it. But she didn't have to.

"RIC didn't get enough people for us to do like an intramural Blitzball league for the summer," he finally said instead.

She shifted and gazed at him in the dark. "So you won't get to play?"

He shook his head. "Sorta. They talked to the local Wiffle Ball club so they're gonna let us play against teams their league. And we'll do like some sandlot scrub ball stuff like drop-in once a week at our practices."

Erin frowned against his head. She knew that wouldn't be what he wanted for his summer ball season.

"So are you going to do that then?"

"Our first tournament is on Memorial Day weekend," he allowed with a little nod against her. "We're the Alouettes."

And she held him a bit tighter at that.

"We couldn't get anyone to sponsor us either. Dad had said he'd take care of it. Before. I think Uncle Al gave him some money. For us to play. Like a donation."

"That sounds like something he'd do," she allowed.

She felt Ethan grin a little against her shoulder. "Our motto's gonna be 'pluck you'."

"The rest of the parents are going to love that," she said.

And he smiled a bit more. "Yea, but it pretty much sounds like Uncle Alvin. And Dad. And I like it. When we're gonna have to be playing against able-bodied teams who are likely gonna think we're like invalids or something. Charity cases. And, pretty much, 'pluck you'."

She smiled a bit at that. "Yea," she allowed. "Both Alvin and your dad would be telling them to go pluck themselves too."

"It's pretty fun," he said after another long pause. "Just like learning the throws. I think if things get better I could maybe try out for pitcher back on the accessibility ball team. Later. But I can kinda see this ball and the bat way better. The bat's got some sick pop. Dad's really good at some of the pitches too. He's showing me. Helping. He might come play some of the scrub ball nights, he says. I think Jay would like it too."

"Yea …?"

He just nodded. "Dad helped me build a strike zone. To practice. With PVC pipe. We got a bunch extra. We're turning it into like a build your own sprinkler thing. For Henry. But Bear kinda loves it already."

The dog heard his name and was up on his feet and shoving his nose up at Erin at the side of the bed. She just gave it a gentle tap and he sat down panting in their direction like he was going to get summoned up on the bed too.

"Sounds like you guys are turning the backlot into quite the summer wonderland," she allowed.

"Well, I think Dad wants to make sure that Henry and Eli and Tilly want to come here lots. Since you guys have a whole park and community center. And Olive's new building has an outdoor pool," he stressed and she felt him shifting to gaze at her again. "It opens Memorial Day too."

"So Daddy's settled on Tilly, has he?" was what Erin responded to there. Because somehow the rest seemed more loaded. The twins getting home and being well enough and strong enough and able-bodied enough to enjoy the park and community center offerings within minutes from the townhouse seemed to distance and far-away. It all still felt so touch-and-go. It was hard to think about a future right now where the choice would be grandpa's backyard, their own 'backyard' or their aunt's pool. Even though that being the biggest decision that needed to be made in a given day at some point in the future seemed … nice. Just easier. More fucking normal than their current reality.

"Well, you don't wanna hear him say Matilda," Ethan deadpanned.

And Erin was surprised that a quiet amused noise escaped her at that but she let herself smile a bit at the thought. She was sure she'd heard Hank say it but maybe it hadn't registered. Hank's gravel against those syllables and phonetic sounds likely wouldn't sound anything like what she'd imagined when hearing and saying the name in her own voice and head.

"I think we're going with Mattie," Erin told him. "For now."

He shook his head against her. "Tilly's better."

She made another little amused sound. "Why's that?"

"'Cuz with a name like Tilly she's definitely gonna to be a better dino-buddy than Henry."

Erin smiled a little more. "Is that so?"

Ethan nodded again. "Yea. I bet Dad will get her like a real tilly hat or archeology, paleontology hat before he ever gets me one."

"That would be a grave injustice," she said.

"It would be," Ethan agreed. "It basically already is."

"Mmm …," Erin allowed and rolled her eyes a little. "You could always ask for one for your birthday."

He was quiet again for a long moment. "All I sorta want for my birthday is, if they're still in the hospital, is to get to come visit. 'Cuz on my birthday they'll let me come in, right? Since I'm over fourteen?"

She rubbed some more at his shoulder and rested her lips somewhere in his hair. "Who we can let in on a given day depends on a whole lot of things right now, Eth," she said.

He was still, then said, "I don't have to hold them or even touch them," he said. "I just wanna to see them. And talk to them and stuff. You know?"

"I do," Erin allowed.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **Another continuation of the conversation will be posted.**


	25. Complications

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

The quiet around them sat there again for a while. It felt deafening.

"I'm a good uncle," Ethan whispered.

"Eth, I know that too," she sighed at him. "It's not about—"

"I'm not some snotty-nosed kid anymore, Erin," he interjected hard.

And she knew he was right. She wasn't sure Ethan had ever gotten to be much of a little kid. His chance to be a little kid ended while he was a little kid. When he should've had years more to be a little kid. And as much as they'd tried to give him something that resembled a childhood – to give him opportunities to just be a kid – life hadn't really let them do that. And there were things about that scared her – because she wondered now how much of that would be the same for Eli and for Mattie. If their chances of having anything that resembled a 'normal' childhood had been shattered from the get.

"I've been thinkin' 'bout it. And like how I'm almost how old you were. When I was born. Right?"

"Just about," she conceded flatly.

It felt so long ago. So fucking long ago. And she remembered how grown-up she'd felt at the time. At sixteen, going on seventeen. Mature and ready to take on the world. Like she'd already taken on the world. And she knew that Ethan likely felt the same way a lot of the time. That he'd seen more and knew more than other people his age. And, maybe he did. Maybe she had too. But she'd still just been a kid then. And he was still just a kid now too.

"So I can help with things," Ethan pressed. "I already do. I have. With Henry. But I can be like you, Erin. For EJ and Tilly. Like not just a good uncle. Like a grown-up – an adult - for them. Like you and like Jay. For me."

"Shh …," she pressed into his head at that and held him again. He was starting to sound frantic. She was getting him worked up. And she hadn't wanted to do that.

Erin placed her hand against the bandaging on his back. He didn't need to go flopping around in his upset and frustration. He'd end up breaking the seal, causing a spinal fluid seep and then they'd – he'd – be paying for it for days. That might mean even more of her family was in the hospital. None of them needed that.

"Bought a scooter," he whispered.

She squinted at him – confused. She didn't think he'd been that bad lately. If anything, she thought some of the mobility situation had stabilized a bit. But all of this? It'd make sense he'd flared. Flared so badly he was on a scooter now? And Hank hadn't told her that either? If she had energy she wanted to be mad but she couldn't seem to get that fire to boil up in her.

"Not like that," Ethan huffed at her. "A Razor. Because Dad's all …" Ethan gave his head an annoyed little shake. "He doesn't like me on my bike now."

"And he likes you on a scooter?"

Ethan shrugged. "Sometimes it's better to just do something than ask permission," he said.

Erin shook her head at him – and his paraphrasing of one of Hank's favorite lines and seeming methods at charging through life. One that had sent them head-strong onto a collision course into some walls but had helped vault them over others.

Ethan was his father's son. So much so. More and more like him every day. For better or worse?

Would she be saying the same of Eli and Mattie down the road? For better or worse? Would they be her or would they be Jay? And what would that mean for all of them?

"It's not as far to fall," Ethan provided in his defense at his purchase. "And it means I can get to the hospital on my own. And fast. Whenever. To visit. And help."

There was so much hope and sincerity in the way he put it. In the way he was gazing expectantly at her.

"You're going to be a great uncle to them and a great role model," she assured after he calmed a bit, but didn't relax that time, against her. "It's just going to be a little longer until you get to do that the way you want. Okay? Just like Dad's not getting to be the grandpa he wants to be yet. And Olive's not getting to be an aunt. And Henry's only seen pictures of them."

"He's too little to understand," Ethan mumbled. "I'm not little like him."

"I know," she said. "And I really hope by your birthday they'll be home and you won't have to visit them in the hospital. Okay? That we'll all get to celebrate your birthday at home."

Ethan rubbed his cheek against her shoulder. "You're not goin' to want to if Olive makes the cake."

Erin smiled a little at that. "So, then Olive won't make the cake."

"Yea, you try being the one to tell her that," Ethan muttered.

And she smiled a little more.

"For real," Ethan said. "You should say, or just wait, next year she'll be saying she wants to do EJ's and Tilly's cake … or cakes …? Too."

She shook her head against him. "That's not going to happen."

"She's keto now," Ethan mumbled. "Whatever that is."

Erin made a mildly annoyed noise at that. Olive had managed to go from white trash to modernized hippie from pregnancy to preschooler. Three and a half years? Some sort of young, urban parent stereotype. Maybe it was from living in that condo. Or surrounded by army wives and stay-at-home moms on base.

Becoming one of those kind of parents – or moms – had been on Erin's list of fears about what having kids meant and would do to her identity. It'd pretty much dropped from the list now. For now.

Right now working on getting her kids to learn how to suckle and latch and swallow and feed without tubes running into their stomachs was enough of a near unmanageable dietary plan. Breast milk versus formula versus whatever it was they put into those tubes to ensure Eli and Mattie were getting their nutrients to grow and to strength their bodies and immune systems.

It already felt like it was going to have long-term implications. That they might become … dietary and food crazies for months and years – and their kids whole lives – after all this.

"She's being pretty extra in tryin' to convince Dad that ketosis is like the lit second-comin' in progressive M.S. treatment or getting it to plateau or 'heal'." He clearly didn't believe that was how it worked. "The 'healthy fats' or some other bullshit. Whatever's around the sheaths that protects the nerve-endings that are getting all destroyed."

"What's he think about that?"

Ethan shrugged. "He's left all kinds of windows open on the tablet 'bout it."

"I guess we can ask some questions at your follow-up," Erin offered.

"Not if it means I can't have ice cream on my birthday."

She smiled thinly. "Wouldn't be a birthday without ice cream."

"'Zactly," he said flatly.

And it was quiet again.

"I thought the plan was Jurassic Park for your birthday," Erin offered flatly – because her mind still wasn't slowing enough for sleep and she was just really trying to keep it from going back to thinking about NICU.

Ethan shrugged. "I don't really wanna go if at least you can't come too. Me and you and Dad saw the last one."

She allowed a sound of acknowledgement. She didn't tell him that that likely wasn't going to happen this time. She knew he knew that anyway.

"Solo, the new Star Wars movie, comes out for Memorial Day too. If Jay wants to go …"

And it hung there. They both knew that wasn't going to happen either.

"Ask Eva out," Erin suggested.

Ethan made a little sound and put a bit more space between them. Or he tried. She still kept her arm around him.

"Complicated," was all he said.

"Still?" Erin asked.

He exhaled slowly and was quiet. Erin knew there was so much that could be said about all that – on a whole lot of levels. There were questions she wanted to ask and conversations she wanted to have with him. But just like there were things she wasn't up to talking about that night – there were areas Ethan didn't want to either.

"Dad says we can go to Fossil Rock on my birthday weekend. But I think he's just trying to distract me from … stuff."

Erin settled her nose back against the crown of his head. And the realization that Camille had likely done that to him – held him the same way – smacked her in the face and she felt her eyes water again. Her emotions – hormones – were still so out of control and that was bothering her.

She'd been doing that so much with Eli and Mattie. Every time she held them. She just smelled them. They smelled so good and so strange all at the same time. So distinctively just them – or her and Jay. Mixed with hospital smells that she wished weren't part of the scent she was coming to relate to them. Smells they might be coming to relate to themselves. Or triggers already for them for their future lives?

"You really wanted to get out to Mazon Creek last summer," she offered.

"That was then. This is now," Ethan said.

She caressed at his shoulder and bicep. "Camping, fishing, fossil hunting. Eth, that sounds like your kind of birthday."

"Not if you guys can't come," he said.

She smiled and frowned all at the same time. "I think it's going to be at least a couple years before we're ready to attempt a camping trip."

"It doesn't have to be camping," Ethan argued weakly. "Jay has the cabin. It can just be fishing. You have to teach them fishing. Mom would want them to fish. And Jay likes fishing too."

"He does …," she allowed. "But that's not going to happen this summer."

"What about Father's Day? Will they be home by Father's Day?"

She exhaled. "Maybe," she conceded. "But this summer we aren't going to be doing much beyond getting them strong and well, and then getting them settled at home."

"Olive let us take Henry fishing on Father's Day last year and he wasn't even two yet."

"Okay," Erin allowed more firmly. "So a Father's Day fishing trip, if that's something Jay wants to do, is something we can talk about closer to their second birthday."

And the quiet sat there again.

"What about the Fourth?" he asked. "Will they be home by then?"

"I don't know," she said more sternly. Because she didn't. What the doctors were saying seemed to change from day-to-day. Sometimes it felt like the situation – at least with Eli – was so fluid it was changing hour-to-hour. Some mornings it felt like they would have Mattie home in a matter of days or a couple more long weeks. Then by the afternoon it felt like both of them would be there for months.

She might've been too forceful, though, because Eth got too still and too quiet. And she let it sit there, though, because she felt like her social skills and coping skills had been put in some sort of vice. She was just too statured with … other things … to be able to deal with other people's reactions to … anything.

"Summer's gonna be good now," he finally said quietly.

"Ethan …," she sighed out.

"Not this summer," he corrected. "Like next year and after. 'Cuz we're going to have your birthday and Jay's birthday and Star Wars Day and EJ and Tilly's birthday and Memorial Day and my birthday and Father's Day and the Fourth and Henry's birthday."

Erin tried not to let that list sting at her eyes – because he'd already told her to not make the days sad. To not attach any extra meaning to them. But right now all she could feel was herself reading between the lines in that list: the anniversary of Nadia's death, the anniversary of Al's death, the anniversary of Justin's death, the anniversary of Camille's death. That didn't sound like a good summer to her. It sounded like a long, extended season of heartbreak. Of post-traumatic stress. Of trying not to project any and all of that onto the next generation. To not fuck them up with all that legacy too.

"And baseball and fishing and camping," Ethan added.

Erin made a small sound. An acknowledgement – that's all she had meant it to be. But it must've sounded something different, let onto her real feelings about future summers.

"They're going to like all that," Ethan pressed at her. "Especially Tilly. I bet she's gonna really like fishing," he said. "And camping."

Erin snorted softly at that hypothesis. "Is that so?"

"Mom did."

"Then I'm not sure she ended up with those genetics."

His neck moved and he stared at her. "Mom, Dad, me and Jay. Your genes are out-numbered."

Shook her head at him. "That how it works? I must've skipped that biology class."

"It's math," Ethan said. "Four against one."

"My math's not great-"

"I know," Ethan interjected. "So hopefully they got Jay's brains for that."

She gave him a little pinch on the bicep for that one and he jumped a bit but gave her a sly grin.

"That's likely fifty-fifty – because my math and observational skills are good enough that I'm sure there were only two people in the room when we were making these kids. Not four."

Ethan made a little gagging noise at that reference. She gave his shoulder a small shake at that predictable reaction. And rubbed gently where she'd goosed his arm.

"Dad says Tilly looks just like you," Ethan said. "And he gets that smile thing on his face when he says it too. And keeps talking about her having so much hair."

Erin allowed her own little smile at that. "She's got a head of hair," she conceded. "But I'm pretty sure Jay's genes dominated in both of them." And that likely wasn't a bad thing. But she wasn't really going to get into that - or go down that road. It just lead to another thought process - and potential pity party - she didn't have the energy to participate in.

"It's likely fifty-fifty too," Ethan said. "It's how it works."

"Ahh ...," she rolled her eyes.

"It is. Like Dad says parenting is all about being team players and fifty-fifty. Just like family is all about tag-teaming and having each other's backs. So he says you and Jay are gonna be fine even though you're nervous 'bout everything right now."

She made a sound of acknowledgement. Ethan heard – more likely he heard the skepticism in it. And he shifted to stare at her again in the dark.

"You will be," he told her evenly – like he believed it way more than her.

"I know," she allowed – trying to sound like she actually did believe it.

"No, really," Ethan said. "And not just 'cuz your cops and know how to be partners and all that. Because, like, I know you tag-teamed with Dad after Mom died. And I know Jay has helped too since I've been home. So you already know how to do it. Even if it's different."

Erin rested her hand against the short hair on the back of his neck. "Thanks …," she provided for his vote of confidence – even if she wasn't entirely buying into it.

"Jay's here too?" Ethan asked.

"Yea," she said.

"See," Ethan said. "He has your back."

"Mmm …," she allowed. She could buy that reality. "It's more that he wants me on my back—"

"Gross," Ethan hissed. "'Specially in my bed. Nasty."

That earned a little, tiny swat. But she must really be tired – she walked into that one.

"With my eyes closed, sleeping," she corrected quickly before he had a chance to interject some more commentary and innuendo into her word choice.

"Why aren't you sleepin' at home?" Ethan asked.

"I didn't think I'd sleep there," she provided.

And he stared at her again. She could feel him measuring her.

"You know you can sleep in Mom's spot in Dad's room, if you want," he told her in a voice that sounded too gentle and just took knowing – about too much – for a kid his age. "I like to do that sometimes … a lot … when stuff's bothering me."

She held at him a bit.

"It makes you feel closer to her," he offered even more quietly. "If you want to … talk to her about … anything."

And there were the fucking postpartum emotions again.

"And it kinda smells the way I remember her. I think," he said.

"It's still her pillow," Erin said. And stopped because she hadn't realized she was going to say it aloud.

Ethan just looked at her, though. "And Dad still uses her special fabric softener for those sheets."

And she just curled her arm up around his head at that and held at him. These little simple things that he shouldn't have to know or vocalize as part of his reality. He was grown up – growing up – but he was still just a kid. He was someone's little boy. And as much as she'd known that for all these years, it pulled at her in such a different way now. It almost hurt. It did hurt. And it made her wonder how Hank had done it – all of it - for the three of them for so many years now. She hadn't known before. Not really. Not like now.

"It still hurts a bit to lay flat," she said, still holding him tight. "Or at least to get up."

"Ab work," Ethan deadpanned. "Pilates."

"Pilates is so me," she said.

"Olive does them," he provided.

"Then I really should get on that," she said. "And the ketogenic diet."

"Apparently," Ethan said. "It's all Gucci for MILFs."

"You realize you just used MILF in reference to your sister and sister-in-law."

He sat up a bit and made a full-on dry-heaving motion. She smiled and tugged him back down flat. He shouldn't be getting that animated after a spinal tap.

"It was all you, not me," she said.

He lay still for a bit and Erin found herself again feeling at his hot skin and judging if he was feverish. Watching and feeling how he reacted to her touches and movements. Placing her hand against the bandage on his back in search for any hints at swelling or moisture. She knew that if Hank had concerns, he would've said something or he would've at least said he couldn't go sit with the twins. So Ethan must be okay – but her mental checks were on high-alert now. Something new and different had kicked in – above and beyond her previous attentiveness to Ethan's health.

"I can go sleep in Dad's room if you want this bed," Ethan said.

Erin gave her head a little shake and kept her hand over the packing on his back. "I think your dad wanted you sleeping in here tonight."

Ethan sighed at her. "He just … gets all … whatever …"

She placed her nose back in his sparse locks on the crown of his head. "And he always will be, Eth. You're his kid. Like it or not, you're always going to be his and your mom's baby."

"Does that mean EJ and Tilly are always gonna by your babies?"

She inhaled while she exhaled. She wondered if the top of his head still had a hint of his baby scent. She didn't remember it. But she didn't doubt that Hank could tell her. Not that that would be the kind of thing they'd talk about.

Camille would've told her.

"Yea, I think so," she allowed.

"So you're always gonna worry too?"

"I'm really starting to think that worrying is part and parcel of just being a parent," she said.

"But it doesn't mean you've gotta baby them," he said.

She allowed a little nod at that. She didn't think that her and Jay were the kind of people who'd baby their kids. But maybe that was before and this was now. And now she really didn't know anymore. Anything. She knew even less than she had thought she knew.

"Dad says you're pretty worried right now 'cuz sometimes preemies … have … health stuff …"

She could tell he was struggling to figure out the right way to phrase it. And there wasn't a right way. She didn't even know how to phrase it. And she didn't like saying it or thinking about it even. It felt like it might create another self-fulfilling prophecy if she did.

"Sometimes," was all she managed in weak agreement.

"But glasses and stuff aren't that big of deal," Ethan said quietly. "And you have asthma anyway so it might not even be their lungs. It just might be like genes and you're fine."

She allowed a weak nod at that. "It might be more complicated than just glasses and an inhaler."

"You mean EJ?" he asked after a long pause that almost hurt again.

She shrugged and shook her head. "Ethan, we really don't know."

Ethan rubbed his cheek against her shoulder. "Dad says it more complicated with EJ because the blood flow and oxygen didn't work right."

Erin worked to try to freeze the tears she felt pushing forward again. "Something like that."

"Dad said it means … some things we aren't going to know for a while."

"We won't," Erin managed and brushed at his ear. A Hank move. And it worked. It calmed Ethan. It calmed Henry. And in the past two weeks, she'd learned it settled her son and daughter too. That Tilly just leaned right into her as she did it. Her restless rooting stopped and she craved the touch.

But Ethan only stilled for so long until he shifted to look at her. He really, really looked at her.

"I know you're scared," he said, "but you already know how to do all that kinda stuff and how to be there for him. I know you do. You have been for me."

She tried to give him a thin smile but it came out as a frown and she felt a tear slip out. She reached and tried to swipe it away, but it was replaced with another.

"Being a little different isn't as bad as you think," he told her quietly. "And it's not as hard as you think when you've got people to help and who care and all that."

She tried to nod but another tear came out. Before she could swipe it away, he reached and roughly swiped it off her cheek for her.

"And he's not gonna think he's different anyway," Ethan told her a bit more forcibly. "He's gonna think all you guys are the weird ones and me and him are the normal and awesome ones. He's gonna get to do whatever he wants. I'll make sure he gets to – just like you and Dad have for me and how you guys all put up with liking my stuff. So I'll even pretend to like the fuckin' lame-ass super heroes, if I've gotta convince him that we're the ones with super powers or whatever."

She managed a little nod again and managed to reach and swipe a tear away before his rough finger tips scrapped across her cheeks again.

"And you don't have to worry like you do and like Dad does. About me. And M.S. and my life and all of that. I'm not gonna go anywhere. I won't do that to you and Dad. And I'm not going to make sure that Henry and EJ and Tilly don't have to deal with any of all this until they are way older too."

And his own tear slipped out and dripped onto her. She reached and swiped her thumb across his cheek, catching one and then another as it trickled down his face.

"I love you," she said.

Words that she only used verbally with him so often. Words that she only used with anyone so often. Words that her and Jay were still learning to verbalize to each other on those terms. Words she'd watched – heard – Hank put into use more and more since they'd lost Justin. Words she was starting to understand even more – need to be said. For all the ways you showed your love and how much you cared – sometimes they all just needed to hear it too.

But Ethan just stared at her – proof that maybe she hadn't told him that enough.

"I'm allowed to tell you I love you sometimes," she said.

"I know …," he finally managed. "I love you too. All of you."

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **The next chapter will likely be set in the NICU. Any chapters after that one will likely have a time shift.**

 **Readership, feedback, comments and reviews are appreciated.**


	26. The Moment

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

Jay scrubbed at this face as he came out of the NICU ward. He was fucking exhausted. But still found himself weighing if he was going to walk more than a few paces away from the ward's entrance.

If he should just give Erin the twenty or thirty minutes of privacy – to level out and calm her frustrations, to the point that hopefully she wasn't giving him that look that had said he needed to get the hell out of the room right then or she was going to blow up at him.

If he should just sit down in the waiting area outside the ward. If he should sprawl out on one of the couches and close his eyes. If he should go and find some dark cool corner and do the same on the floor. If he should go down to the showers and try to clean up. Or to the cafeteria and get something to eat and put back another cup of coffee to try to mask how tired he was.

Or if he should just really give her the space for a while and go home. To try to sleep and shower and eat there. But if felt so fucking … empty in the townhouse right now. Just … even worse than when Erin had been gone.

It was too quiet – when it wasn't supposed to be. It didn't feel like a place he was supposed to be.

It just didn't feel like the place it was supposed to be now.

He brought his hand down and came to a stop. Hank was sitting in the waiting area. Just sitting. Like he'd been sitting there for a while. More than a while. Book out – reading. Legs crossed. Like he was in his own living room and being stuck in the hospital ward was no skin off his back.

And maybe it wasn't. Jay was still working on figuring out what his relationship was with Hank – now. Again.

A-fucking-gain.

"You know we don't have to come out to bring you in anymore," Jay called at him.

The guy just glanced at him over the top of his book. Finally closed it and looked at him a bit more closely. Like that was some kind of new information – when it wasn't. It shouldn't be.

"You can just sign in whenever you want."

Hank grunted, shrugged, sank back in the couch he'd claimed in a way that betrayed his own heaviness and fatigue. The fractures in him that weren't that hidden right now. The ones that still had all this anger and rage and sadness and guilt just steaming out of them like some kind of geysers that had made it hard for Jay to stay in the same room as him on his visits so far.

So maybe it was best that he was ordered to take his break down. Get out of the room. Give Erin the room. And let Hank wade into that and see if he could calm her down. Not likely. It was hard to stay emotionally level in all of this. It was more likely that she'd push Hank out of the room too.

"Was in," Hank said. "Looked like a nurse was taking you through the paces."

And there was that grunt. A motion. Like it was explanation enough that he'd given them space and come out here to wait.

But Jay knew he must've been waiting a while. Because it'd been a while ago that the nurse was in there going through the checks on the babies and letting them help with changing their diapers. Something that Jay had thought would be a fucking easy reality to deal with. But it wasn't. Not when they were preemies in NICU.

It was nerve-wrecking. And so hard to see how small and fragile their little bodies still were. To be scared you were causing them any kind of discomfort by accidentally touching or adjusting all the cords and tubes and wires that were already causing them so much discomfort.

Your newborns weren't supposed to be in a situation like that. And as much as Jay had mentally prepared himself for the reality that twins are born early. That a whole lot of them are preemies. Nothing really prepares you for exactly how small they are. For just what it's like – what it feels like – to see these babies that are your children hooked up to all that machinery. To see them sick at the start of their lives.

It'd been at least an hour since the nurse had been in and helping them. At least an hour since Hank had apparently stuck his head down the hall and then left them be.

That afternoon she didn't want Jay sitting there while she kangarooed the babies and tried again with trying to teach them to suckle on her finger and to take more interest in latching onto the bottle.

He'd aggravated her. Apparently. She thought he was patronizing her. And she'd eventually snapped at him to get out when he'd been trying to help her get Eli's tubes and wires and lines out of the way so he could rest against her chest.

He'd been told she could adjust him herself. When he'd hesitated, she'd corrected harshly that she'd call the nurse to help. That she needed him to leave.

So he had. Reluctantly. He could tell if he didn't that they'd likely both be in exhausted, hurt tears. And that just wasn't the kind of energy the babies needed in the room.

So he'd listened. He hadn't argued.

He hadn't taken his time out of that room yet that day anyway. He didn't like to. Even though he knew he needed to. Even though he kept telling Erin she needed to. But it also just felt like – it was – where he needed to be right then.

So as much as when he'd trudged out the ward he'd tried to convince himself that he was going to go and … do something for an hour or so. As much as he wasn't sure he really wanted to sit with Hank … he did.

He sank into one of the armchairs and stared off at a wall while he felt Hank staring at him. Because at least that way he was still nearby. If Erin needed him. If the babies needed him.

These days it felt like they did and they didn't.

Being a new father was hard enough. Trying to figure it out when your kids were in NICU was worse. It had to be. He felt like a consistent third wheel. And he was definitely in the minority. There weren't a lot of other fathers as visibly omnipresent as him.

Maybe Erin would just prefer he'd go back to work. Give her space. Maybe the nurses would prefer that too. But Jay wasn't sure that'd do much good for him in any way right now. He'd really have to work at it to have his head and heart in the right place to be doing the job.

He wasn't sure he wanted to. It seemed like he should be here. While he had the leave available to him. That being here was where his head and heart should be – while it could be. Like he was needed here more.

"You'll want to give her a few more minutes," Jay mumbled.

Hank gave him a listening sound. Some kind of acknowledgement. "Pumping?"

Jay shook his head and rubbed a bit at his face before he made himself find Hank's eyes. "She's just …" and he made his own gesture. Because he didn't know what to do with his hands or what kind of gesture to make. Because Hank knew Erin. And he'd had a wife. And he'd raised kids. And he'd had a kid in NICU for at least a few weeks. Had a kid in hospital a lot anymore. So … what more was there really to say.

Nothing.

He got another sound of acknowledgement. The book tapped on the guy's knee. And Hank stared at him.

Jay sighed a looked at his eyes. "How many hours did you put in when Eth was here?"

It got another listening sound. Hank scrubbed at his own face some and shrugged. "Different story," he said. "Two other kids at home. Couldn't be here twenty-four-seven."

"But your wife was." It was a statement. An assumption.

But it got a negative grunt. And Jay stared at him with that too.

"Work situation. Case," Hank graveled. "Not able to take my two weeks. Lot of nights Camille had to get home to J and Erin."

Jay made a sound and rotated his head to stare at nothing in particular. Maybe Hank couldn't relate. Maybe Jay didn't relate either.

"So you didn't get to do this," he whispered under his breath. To himself.

There was a little smack out of Voight and Jay shifted back to look at him. "Put in my hours," he said. "Had him home by about this point. But didn't sleep for about the three weeks of getting him there."

Jay ran his fingers down the crappy faux-leather in these crappy chairs that were trying to make Med look modern and comfortable.

"I think we're getting to the point that Erin and the staff here are ready for me to be back on the job. Only stop in at the end of shift."

It got another smack. And Hank tapped his book against the arm of the couch he was sitting on. Just stared at him.

"Benson. Cassidy. Sent you two something," he said finally. A change in topic. "Four," he added with a little jut of his chin off back at the NICU entrance. "To District."

Jay just nodded. They hadn't done an official … announcement. Yet. But yet was just now. Because there wasn't going to be a yet in this now. Neither of them were so great at making things official. Letting it all hang out there and hinge on … everyone knowing. The responsibility that came with … making things official. In this environment. In this now. People who'd want to know. Questions they'd ask. Shit they didn't want to know. And then shit people would want to know – or loops they'd want to be kept it – when it was none of their fucking business. When shifting through all the shit the doctors said to them in a given day was enough to wrap their own heads around and to keep their heads on straight in the process too. To not just lose it and slip into some kind of dark hole. The same fucking dark hole that a lot of hours of the day it felt like they were in alone.

Jay didn't want to get involved with having to regurgitate and paraphrase everything that got said to them. To try to explain it. To have to research it more than he already was having to restrain himself in the Dr. Googling, because doing that wasn't just stressing him out – it stressed Erin out and had resulted in some conflicts and tension whenever he pulled out his phone after talking to – being talked at by – one of the docs. The fewer people they had to explain any of it to – the better. So there wasn't some official announcement or blast that the twins were here. Here almost a month. But word was … around at this point. Paperwork filed for parental leave and FMLA and furlough and baby furlough and sick days and vacation days. More fucking clocks ticking down around them. All these expectations – misunderstandings – people had of what was actually going on contrasted against what they perceived as a 'normal' birth and newborn and new parents experience. They weren't getting that.

So instead it'd felt like it'd been a month of people giving them random crap. A lot of random crap. Literally and figuratively.

Stuff they couldn't use in NICU. Stuff that just got dropped off at the townhouse and left in boxes and wrapping and bags. Stuff he wasn't sure they'd have any need for by the time they got around to looking at what the fuck it was. Frozen food that they weren't eating because they weren't there. Crap that Hank had started taking over … putting somewhere for them. Jay guessed. He didn't really know what he was doing with it. Likely just putting it in the pile with the rest of the stuff in the spare room at the townhouse. For them to sort through later.

Hank hadn't asked if they needed anything. Hadn't told them they were missing anything. Hadn't interjected his opinion on what they needed for when the twins got home. Hadn't hinted that he'd looked to see what was contained in all that random stuff that people were giving them. A lot of people who had good intentions but also just didn't really get it. And Jay wasn't sure he wanted to wish on anyone that they had to go through this so they did get it. All Hank had said was if they needed or wanted him to pick up anything and have it set-up or stocked at the house. Not to tell him or not that he'd do it. Just that hanging statement that said all that anyway. Without saying it.

"Switch it up for a few?" Jay got graveled at him.

Jay only shook his head. "I'll pick it up later …," he mumbled.

Hank grunted in a way that was clear that wasn't what he meant.

"Can keep an eye on your three," Hank clarified.

Jay just shrugged. "I was just going to sit here anyway." And he wasn't sure he really wanted Hank's company during that. But maybe he did.

Just like he felt like he was supposed to be talking about this. To someone. All of it. But he didn't know who. Or what to say. Or who the fuck he knew who'd get it. And it just seemed like something you weren't supposed to be talking about. Not beyond transcribing the medical jargon to give something resembling an update to people who thought they wanted to know or care on occasion.

"Would you be sitting here if it wasn't Erin?" Jay said. Hank just stared at him. Smacked at him. And smacked that book on the arm of the couch again. "I mean, if it was a son in there with his newborns."

Hank's eyes sat on him. "Is isn't it." It wasn't a question.

Jay just exhaled and sunk more into the chair, resting his fist against his temple and stared back at him.

"You didn't do this with Henry," he provided.

The book tapped again. "Justin didn't set up his family in Chicago. And H was home within twenty-four hours."

Silence sat between them. The both stared at each other without looking at each other. Really. Or maybe they were looking at each other too much.

"Your family do this?"

"You want me come around less, that's all you need to say, Jay," Hank rasped.

Jay just shook his head. "It's not that," he muttered.

That book tapped a couple more times. "Jay, I deal with things in the moment. I don't know what an adult son and father relationship is supposed to look like. What it's supposed to look like after your kid has got kids. I didn't have that. I don't have my wife around to be directing what that familial response and reaction is supposed to be when it's your boy. Versus when it's your adult daughter. Spent a lot of years just making it up. But I do know this. I make the best decisions I can. I am doing the best I can to try and protect and take care of my family. Erin's family. You're family. Those babies – they're my family."

"So that's a no," Jay stated. Flatly. It was an easier reaction than anything else.

Hank made an almost amused noise and rubbed his hand down his increasing creased cheeks that were working toward becoming sagging jowls in coming years.

"Camille's family was always more involved," he nodded at him. "That because she was their daughter? Their only daughter?" he shrugged. "Or Italians and the Boy Child?" He shrugged again. "And, looking back, maybe them being that way, and us letting them be that way, maybe it intimidated my mom a bit. Affected the relationship she had with us or the kids a bit. Maybe made it feel a bit like a fucking negotiation any time anything came up. When fucking Sunday dinner came up. Might as well have gotten scheduling and the timekeeper involved at every fucking holiday in the calendar year."

And Jay tried again to process. And he didn't know if he could figure out how to internalize and apply it right now. Maybe he spent too long trying too. The book tapped on the armrest again.

"Your brother up much?"

And Jay shifted his eyes back to Hank and managed to shake his head. Though, he couldn't quite manage to say that he thought he liked it that way. Right now. Even though part of him wanted a brother right now. But he wasn't sure Will had reached the place yet where he was able to be the kind of brother he wanted and needed.

He hadn't. Not after Will had come and asked him what his and Erin's intentions were with their relationship. Asked him about mom's ring. In the midst of all fucking this – he's asking that. And then capping the conversation with a commentary about the babies' care.

Will was his brother. But he wasn't like the other brothers he had. In the Rangers. In theater. In Intelligence. In his units and on his jobs. But he also didn't know how to talk to those brothers – real brothers – about any of what was happening right now either. Because you didn't. You just went for a drink. You shared war stories. You swore off the women who … had been as hurt by you and the job as you were hurting by it all too.

What to Ruzek know about this shit? Or Atwater? And talking to Antonio right now …

"Cami and her parents – her dad, Nico – helped me wade through a whole fucking lot in coming out of a long fucking tunnel after I lost my pop. So I was close to them – to her family. And, I'm not going to make apologies or excuses for that. And, my mom – she had her own responsibilities in making relationships with the kids. And that wasn't something I could do for her. Maybe I should've helped with facilitating it more. But maybe I didn't need to. Because, do know, she was over the moon with getting grandkids. Know J had a nice long stretch where the sun rose and set on him from his Oma's perspective and she did really do at catering to his very fucking whim – and stomach. And that all three of my kids have some kind of memories about her, even if it was their other grandparents who were around a bit more."

And Jay stared at him then.

"Family's complicated, Jay," Hank graveled. "But you don't need to be making excuses for them or for who or what you decide your family looks like. Everyone makes their own decisions and has their own roles and responsibilities in figuring out how to make those relationships work. It's not all on you."

"I feel like a third wheel here," Jay managed.

Hank stared at him long. "Sure Erin is feeling that way sometimes in this environment too."

"You didn't feel like as the dad you just aren't supposed to be here," Jay pressed at him.

"As their dad, this is exactly where you're supposed to be," Hank graveled.

Jay exhaled again and shook his head.

"Look, Jay," Hank rasped. "There's going to be a lot of times raising kids you're going to end up feeling like you're running second-fiddle. Kind of man you are you're going to have this competing 21st Century, World's Best Daddy crap clashing with wanting – needing – to be the provider and protector in the family. And it's not a fucking easy balance to find. But, what people don't tell you, is that the mom is going to have a whole lot of times feeling a similar way. And that as those babies grow up and you work on trying to figure out parenting, there's going to be a whole lot of times and things that one of you is just going to be better at in whatever's going on in their lives or with their personalities or however your relationship is with them at a particular moment. So, yeah, sometimes you'll be the third wheel. But you acknowledging you feel that way, means you're at least trying to be a good parent. And, the other big secret is that none of parenting is ever really fucking shared fifty-fifty in the moment. It's cumulative. That's what the partnership involved in raising kids is about. Eventually it all evens out. And these weeks here, aren't a good measure of the role you're going to have with your kids. Eventually it's just going to feel like a blip for all of you."

"It doesn't feel like a blip," Jay muttered.

"Life's a fucking blip," Hank rasped. And they stared, Hank bouncing that book still. "Had it out with Magoo," he said. Like that was some sort of consolation in all of this.

"About?" Jay mumbled. He wasn't sure he cared.

Hank made another dismissive noise, like he was over it.

"Teen-aged kid crap," he rasped.

"Ahh …," Jay muttered. "I don't know what that means." Though, he thought he had enough of an idea.

"Give it another couple blips and you will," Hank said and they met eyes. He just gestured over to the hall and the elevators. "He's downstairs with your brother."

Jay straightened a bit at that. "Flare?" It felt like they were in this tight rope of just waiting for that to happen with Eth now with everything going on.

But Hank made a sound to the negative. "Getting gravel tweezed out of him." And Jay stared. "Took a giant spill on that fucking scooter."

Jay shook his head at that one. It seemed like that had been evitable. But it felt like there was a lot more to the story. But Hank wasn't giving it.

"So, switch up," Hank said. "You go play second-fiddle and I'll take over being the third wheel. And in a couple hours, we'll see about just having the band all righted on the road."

Jay stared at him. "He doesn't need you down there with him?" he asked.

Hank made a sound and gesture that was a pretty close mirror to the one he'd made about where Erin was at inside NICU and why he was sitting out there.

He tapped the book again on the armrest and then looked at it. "Erin said you've been reading to the babies a lot," he said.

"Yea …," Jay allowed.

Hank nodded a bit. "Did that with Magoo too. Come over after shift. Surveillance. Mean, you can only sit there and talk at the kid so much. Talk to them, they all you. But what can you say. So started reading to him. Three, four hours at a time. And there was this point where the docs were in there. Had all the brain scan stuff hooked up to him and you just see the machine jump when I started reading to him. They tell me to stop. Lines on the monitor calm. Tell me to start again and there they go. You seen that?"

"Yea …," Jay admitted.

Hank nodded again. "I remembered that. When E was in his coma. Went through so many books with that kid. And, again, now. Just read to him. Because the thing is after they know you're there, even when you're fucking up, or you can't always be right there, they still know you're there for them. The time you're getting right now, it's giving you the space to find that balance later. For all of you."

Jay just stared at him but Hank pulled himself off the couch. He wrapped the book against his shoulder as he walked by. Jay looked at the cover. Call of the Wild.

"Good read for Magoo. White Fang might be better for you right now." Jay worked on processing that too and trying to remember, which or both he might've read years ago and what the story was beyond dogs and wolves and Alaska.

"You want me to read it to him?" Jay asked.

Hank grunted. "No, I'll read to my son. You read to yours."

And Jay stared.

"Just give it to him. He'll know what it means."

"What's it mean?" Jay stared at him.

Hank shrugged. "Same thing you being out here means." And Jay kept his eyes on him. "That sometimes we all need to take time to level out and get our heads on straight. We can't always make right decisions. Sometimes it's the wrong one. But we're all just doing the best we can in the moment."

Jay stared at him still.

"That I'll be down to read him Chapter Four in a bit," Hank rasped and he kept heading for the NICU entrance that time.

And Jay just stared at the cover. And then stared at the wall. And tried to figure out the best way to get through this moment. And the next ones.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **I might jump backward and do the chapter with Hank and Ethan's argument. I think exploring where Ethan is at in all this and where his relationship with his dad is at is important and interesting to setting up where this story might go to take the characters 3-7 years down the line. Ethan is in an interesting age range, combined with his medical history and his life experiences that would make how he processed and interacted with it and the implications it would have on his social and academic life and the relationships with his dad and rest of his family likely rather complicated and fascinating. And important and fundamental in his development as a person and movement into adulthood.**

 **Outside of that chapter, I think I'm likely just going to do one more in this story and then I'll do a few chapters set in the future. And that will likely be it for this AU. There's lots and lots and lots more that could be played with. But setting it as a sequential story would be challenging. It's more that little flashes and moments might work. But then you have to try to anticipate character developments and stay true to them in moving back and forward in time, which is hard.**

 **Your readership, comments, reviews and feedback n the chapters and story are appreciated.**


	27. Baby Girl

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

Hank rested his shoulder against the sliding glass door that was meant to give some kind of illusion of privacy in the NICU. Wouldn't exactly call it private. But wasn't meant to be. You and your baby were on display. Full view from the nursing station of everything and anything going on in there if they were paying attention in a given moment. Usually seemed that at least one of them was on the look-out. Usually more like two. Sliding glass was really some sort of near useless buffer to any of the hustle and bustle in the area. Though, the staff were pretty good at enforcing quiet in the area too. Let the babies and their parents try to get some sort of rest as best they could in the situation they were in. As much as they could.

But it sure didn't look like Erin was excelling at that. Still. Pale and exhausted looking over there. Sitting clearly half-naked and cuddling at her little boy. Itty-bitty bottle sitting next to her but she must've given up for the moment in trying to get him to take it. Thought the two of them were dealing with some of the same hurdles as they'd had with Magoo way-back when. And he hadn't been as little or sick. But his whole oral aversion thing and reluctance to take Cami's breast or bottle had just kept them stuck in the hospital longer. Seemed like Eli was working at going for the same streak. But that kid sure needed to be putting on some weight and body fat if he wanted to get his family home in a timely manner. But kinda hard to be talking any kind of sense to a four-week old preemie.

Though, Hank had sure thought there was some stubborn genes of his mom going on in there. Wished he could say stubborn lil'fuck Voight genes too. Maybe there was. Rubbed off enough onto his girl through just proximity. Though, she'd been born with them good on her own accord. Thankfully. Managed to get her through the first part of her childhood. Needed to be that way. But, also knew that with those stubborn genes in all three of his kids, there was a bit of lazy. Stubborn enough they wanted to do things their way and meant they were only going to listen to you so much when you got at them about doing much of anything else. Thought that some of EJ's refusal to get on taking the bottle had less to do with fatigue or strength or not knowing how to suckle and a bit more to do with the kid deciding it was a whole lot easier to just take all his nutrients through that tube they had stuck in him.

Same fucking thing with Magoo. When he was a baby and again when he was coming out of his coma. Took some kicks in the butt to get him on board with learning to eat for himself. Both times. But knew it was real hard to be giving those lumps when your kid was so little and fragile and sick. Tough love. Could still be tender. Could still come from the right places.

Erin must've sensed she was being watched. Sure she didn't like just how watched she felt in all of this. And didn't seem like she was quite getting used to it either.

Her eyes came up from the caressing of Elias' back and arms in some clearly practiced and taught patterns. They landed over on him.

Hank let himself move over to the foot gap that'd been left in the sliding glass – either by the nurses or Jay when he'd taken his retreat. Didn't move inside, though. Could see that Erin was adjusting, pulling the blanket up a bit more over her and the baby. Knew it likely meant she was full-on bare-chested under there, not just shirtless. Knew Camille had done that with E too when she'd still been hoping the milk would come in. Nurses had seemed to think that it might help both of them with getting things flowing. Hadn't seemed to. And didn't think it was helping Erin either. His understanding was that the nurses and docs had pretty much given her permission to stop with the pumping at this point. Rather than letting that suction suck her raw for what was – and wasn't – coming out. But his stubborn girl – suspected she was only listening so much. Hospital-grade rental was still in the room.

"Want me to come back in a bit," he nodded at her.

She gave her head a bit of a shake, still tugging on that blanket and adjusting her and the baby. "It's okay," she whispered. Elias was sleeping. Could hear his calm, deep breathing and little sounds from the door. And she didn't much need to be whispering. Hank also knew that NICU preemies sure seemed to turn into real good sleepers. And just real quiet babies in general. In his experience. With Magoo. But was seeing about the same in his grandkids when he was here too.

He let himself in. Always wasn't too sure where to put himself when he was there. Still. But easier right now with Jay out of the room. More space to move around. Another baby for him to go and sit with for a bit without stepping on anyone's toes or rubbing anyone's fur the wrong way.

Had the hood pulled right up on little Tilly's incubator bed. She was doing real good. Could see her growing bigger and stronger nearly every time he was in. Those deep, dark eyes of hers always just open and looking around. Taking it all in. Broke your heart a bit the way she seemed to be seeing and looking at it all. Like she was trying to process it. When she just shouldn't need to.

A lot less medical equipment hooked up to her at this point compared to EJ. There'd been talk of her ending up on the step-down area for the babies. But Erin or Jay must've put up some fuss about that. Separating the family. It's hard.

So she was still here. Don't know what implications that was having on what the fucking insurance company was and wasn't paying for them. Or how Erin and Jay were handling that. But he had some experience in all that too. You just handled it. And in the end it was better for the kid. Better for the whole family. Got to be near her brother. Maybe urge him along a bit. Show him how it was done.

Or she was just in a bit bigger hurry than Elias. Wanted to get to the outside sooner. Had got herself positioned to be Baby A when the docs pulled them out after being Baby B all pregnancy. And the look in that kid's eyes, Hank was sure she'd be telling her brother his whole life that she was the 'older' sister. Could see a whole lot of life in that little girl already. She was going to be a heartbreaker. A going concern. Could just tell.

"Popa's here," Erin told the one kiddo, as he settled himself into the chair pulled up next to Tilly's crib.

Gave Erin a brief look to get her go-ahead to touch his granddaughter. Got the nod and reached in to find her little hand. Stroked his index finger down the back of it. Made her stir a bit in her sleep, her eyes opening up to thin slits to again give him that look of hers.

"Hey there Tilly Girl," he rasped at her as gentle as he could manage.

She stirred a bit more. Yawning and doing a bit of full body stretch. Those little chicken legs kicking up into the air. Her tiny little toes curling with it. Hank still found himself a little mind-boggled at just how small his grandbabies were. You forget how little they are when they are babies. Littler still when they come out as preemies.

Wasn't sure he'd seen babies quite as little. E was small – underweight – when he came out. His whole life. But Matilda and Elias – whole different kind of small. His pinky finger was still bigger than the whole length of their feet.

Strange. Being that close to a baby girl. Felt all kinds of funny. Could see so much of Erin in her already. And her daddy too. His own kiddos. Camille. She just made him smile.

Wondered sometimes what it would've been like. His and Cami's little girl they didn't get to meet. To watch grow. What Erin was like as a baby. What it would've been like to watch her grow up. Supposed he was getting some kind of sense of it now. And if little Tilly was even only fifty-percent her mom, could tell watching them grow as a heartbreaker. Or at least a heartstring puller. Hadn't been entirely prepared for what he'd been feeling with having this round of grandkids. With there being a granddaughter in the mix. A baby girl in the family. Same but different with the boys. Whether it should or shouldn't be – it was.

Hadn't been around a lot of baby girls over the years. Not like this. Friends who had their daughters. That they got invited over to do the goo-goo, gah-gah to over when they'd brought the baby home and got them settled. But he might've looked at the kids but never like this. Never held a little girl this small. Not that he'd gotten the blessing to pick up his granddaughter yet either. But knew it'd come eventually. Still got to touch her now. Remember all those little soothing strokes and rubs and massage that the nurses had taught him and Cami all those years ago in soothing and stimulating Magoo. Same things being taught to Erin and Jay now. Working its same kind of slow magic in seeing these little people get to each of their milestones. Really makes them become your own personal miracles. Being reminded a lot of that lately too. With Magoo. About Magoo. How much he'd been that for the family. For Cami. How much he really still was.

But he scrapped the pad of his finger down her sole anyway. He got another look through those slits. He could tell – she was ticklish. Good thing to hold over her in future months and years when all this got a bit more normal. When he could play with his grandkids. Tease them. Make them giggle. Annoy the shit out of their parents by getting them all worked up and silly and then sending them back home for Mom and Dad to handle their wiggles.

Her arms flailed a bit again. Some minor protest and as he moved his finger away, her little hand found it and wrapped those tiny fingers around it – holding on pretty tight for a kid that size. And he'd clearly been told – 'enough'.

And he listened. Just giving her a bit of a smile. Watching those fingers flex and curl just a little bit as her eyes worked at closing tight again, real slow.

"You're here early today," Erin said off behind him.

"Mmm …," he acknowledged. But he just kept his eyes on his granddaughter.

Funny how sometimes it was the fucking simplest things that could remind you again quick about what was important. Those fingers and toes. The twenty little fingers and toes in that room. The ten more on his son's little boy. Twenty more – that weren't so little anymore – on the two big kids he had left. Sometimes you forget. You get too caught up in a whole lot of things. Daily life. The job. What all that did to you and the environment you were in. Too busy to see or think about those fingers and toes. And the people they're attached to.

"Going to have some time to come around as much as you need and when you want," Hank provided her.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **Splitting this scene. Will be continued. Right now it's likely going to be the last scene of this story. I'll start another story and do 3-5 more scenes set in the future. That's my current intention.**


	28. Road Rash

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

THIS CHAPTER IS A CONTINUATION OF THE SCENE AND HANK/ERIN'S CONVERSATION, WHICH WAS STARTED IN THE CHAPTER IMMEDIATELY PRIOR TO THIS (BABY GIRL).

It hung there. Real quiet. Beyond the babies' breathing and all the machinery in that room.

"Administrative leave," Erin finally said.

Didn't sound like an ask. Statement of fact. Tend to be the way they operated. Generally, always had on some level. For better or worse. Led to its own share of stand-offs over the year. Adult-kid. Parent-ward. Supervisor-subordinate. Boss-employee. Or talking as 'friends' – whatever the fuck that meant when it was your adult daughter who worked for you. Supposed it was good that at least part of that equation had been somewhat simplified. Not that it seemed like family relationships ever got too simple. What Erin had in front of her these days – two little babies, no matter the circumstances – it was about as 'simple' as it ever fucking got, in his experience.

He just grunted.

"Why now?"

He grunted again. He wanted to about leave it at that.

"I thought they were done their investigation," she said.

He gave a little smack.

That got another silted eye opening out of Tilly Girl. And a little pucker of her own lips.

An attempt at mimicking the noise she'd heard?

Erin would likely be limiting his time around her if he went teaching her daughter that one. Knew she hated when he gave it to her as it was. Could feel her eyes on the back of his head. But there was only so much to say about any of it.

The situation. The investigation. The fallout. She didn't need to be getting herself too worried about it or wrapped up in it. She had enough on the go. But the girl wasn't one to let things go. For better or worse there too. Had caused its own share of conflicts over the years – at home and on the job.

"Apparently something's coming up," he provided. "Making it hard for them label it a good shoot."

"The janitors?" she pressed. She was getting a tone. Tone enough that he was pretty sure he heard a change in Elias' breathing over there. Wasn't the calm he needed. Wasn't the calm Erin needed either.

He cast her a little look. Kept his mouth shut.

"It was a good shoot," she muttered at him. But took his point – calm down. Take care of your own shit. Her hand went back up on EJ's back. Work at getting him to settle back into his rest.

Hank wasn't sure if 'it was a good shoot' was a statement or a question these days. Out of her mouth or anyone else's. Either way there was this level of accusation to it.

Knew his answer, though. Knew the reality he'd seen. But also knew what he was feeling when he'd pulled that trigger. But was doing his best to keep away from that line of questioning and reflection. From himself. From his family. From the fucking Ivory Tower and this latest endeavor to have him sitting across the table while they tried to figure out a way to come after his badge.

Emotions and personal investments shouldn't play a role. Not to him and the shooting. Not to the Ivory Tower now. The guy had had an ankle holster. He was reaching for it. End of story. End of case and the fucking investigation.

Thought it had been the end it. Thought that maybe the Ivory Tower was learning about some of the errors in its ways lately. Showing some respect for one of their own. Showing some acknowledgement that there's the good and the bad and the necessary.

He was necessary. Real fucking necessary in what the city was and what the CPD and the job had become anymore. The politics and the optics. And the actual fucking job that needed to be done to maintain all of that.

What'd he'd done had been necessary. All of it. His thirty years on the fucking job – necessary. All those actions in the moment – necessary.

He had to keep looking at it that way.

It was the only way he could be looking at it right now.

Needed to keep telling himself that.

"Are you going to get your FoP rep involved?" she asked off behind him.

He just grunted. Dismissed that and marveled at those curled and gripped little fingers on his granddaughter. So small and so fragile. Just like fucking life. Or own little reality. The bubbles you tried to create for yourself and your family. To protect them. But that could be burst so fucking easily.

"Why? Just let them ask their stupid questions."

Erin knew his feelings about the union.

There was a time and place for it. It had its purposes. But also felt it was usually best to keep as far away – and uninvolved – with the cops that found themselves too wrapped up in that movement.

They were a different kind of police and the kind of police that ended up using them too frequently in their career weren't his kind of cops. Didn't have a real need for the union and the FoP if you did the job and covered your bases. Proper planning so you could tick off the boxes that the Ivory Tower needed ticked. Whole lot of grey area on all those forms though for when you were filling in those blanks. Easier to live in there when you knew how the operation worked.

Didn't need an FoP rep. Wouldn't unless banter about lawyers came up. Weren't there yet. Thought if they wanted to put on that kind of horse and pony show they'd already be there. And they weren't. This was enough of a fucking schnozzle. Didn't need to give it more publicity.

But also knew there'd been enough camera time given to all of this. Eventually someone was going to have to end up burning at the stake. Was hoping that was Denny. Denny had gone provided himself and his ego right up on a silver platter for the CPD to use him as an effigy in just getting all those put behind them.

"Antonio?" Erin asked a bit more carefully off behind him.

Hank just hummed at his granddaughter.

That'd be Jay talking and stewing about what he'd be walking back into when his FMLA timed out. Or Hailey or Adam chattering at him too much about the tensions in the bullpen. Divisions in the team. Stark ones. Ivory Tower let him keep his unit at the end of this – and they would, he wouldn't give them a choice in the matter – he'd be having to make some changes himself. Assuming that no one decided on their own to take a hike. Giving everyone a bit of healing time. Time to get their heads about allegiances spun back around right. But the group of them weren't acting like much of a team right now. And couldn't have any of this bullshit going on too long. Didn't need to have any of them watching their backs more than they all already needed to be. Didn't need more eyes on them. Just needed to keep their numbers up and keep doing their fucking jobs. That's how it worked. So all this tension and banter needed to stop or some people were going to have to take a hike and find somewhere else in CPD that suited them better. Simple as that.

"Didn't stick around to hear all the details," he said.

"Hank …," Erin huffed at him.

He gave her another glance. She was looking. Real annoyed looking. If his grandson wasn't on her chest, he was pretty sure she'd be crossing her arms to make sure he got an even better sense of just how much he was pissing her off in that moment.

Let her. She had a whole lot of years ahead of her of getting those same looks and crossed arms. Wanted to say it was still a decade or more down the road, but he had a pretty good idea that she was going to be doing the Terrible Twos in double-time. And that Tilly would have the cross-armed glare combined with the pout or stomping foot down in time for that gauntlet. Henry sure did. Be interesting to see if it was little boys or little girls who pulled off the whole tantrum thing better. They'd all sure get to see – side-by-side in living color.

"Ignatius was working at vibrating me off the chair before I went in," he provided. "Then Meredith called."

She squinted at him. "Why?"

"Because your brother thought it'd be real smart to go skipping school, go loiter at Al's place—"

"What? Why?" Erin demanded at that.

But Hank hadn't gotten a real straight answer on that yet. E was blubbering too much right now to be real clear. Something about some bracelet. And a trade. And Lexi and Al. Knew it was nothing nefarious. E wasn't that kind of kid. Knew Meredith knew that too. But still wasn't exactly thrilled about the intrusion. So he just ignored Erin's interruption.

"Made a break for it when she caught him. Real smart," Hank rasped. "Smarted even more when tripped all over himself on the fucking scooter and left most of the skin from his knees, palms and chin down their driveway."

Erin cringed slightly. Both knew that E didn't need more road-burn on any part of his body. But he'd done a number on himself. It was taking a bit for them to get it all washed out and cleaned up downstairs. And they were fucking paging the plastic surgeon in to take a look given the scarring the kid already had all over his face and one side of his body. Hank thought that was a bit of a waste of time. But that's exactly something you said out loud in front of your already scarred up and self-conscious kid. Supposed in the end the wait-time just gave them both a bit more cool-down time.

As the cringe subsided, Erin just looked at him. Long and hard. Until all he got was, "Did you talk to her?"

"Mmm …," Hank gave his head a shake. Knew Meredith wasn't ready for that. She'd made that real clear. Real clear on who should've been in jail and who should've been jabbed by that shiv. And he wouldn't say she was wrong. She was likely right in a whole lot of ways that he couldn't let himself dwell on. So he wasn't sure if and when she would be interested in interfacing every again. Justifiably. Didn't know how long and how hard he would try. He should try.

Hadn't tried too hard, though. Hadn't pushed.

Besides, when he wasn't picking up she'd gone and called the Barn. Talked to Trudy. And she'd gone over to try to deal with it until he picked up the messages. Just wrapping up more of the family drama into the work. Personal and professional wasn't doing so good at keeping separate right now. That was a problem too.

He reached and brought over a little knitted octopus. Trudy had made one for each of the kids. Along with the usual caps and booties that had looked so small Hank hadn't thought they'd fit the kids. But they had. Another reminder of just how little they were.

She'd told him these octopus apparently what you were supposed to make preemies. Don't know where she got that. Some knitting or crochet group that they'd all pretend she didn't go to likely. Supposed it was some sort of sensory and simulation thing. Knew both the babies seemed to like it. Just clutched at it when they were in their cribs. EJ looked like he was holding onto its tentacles for dear life when he was sleeping in there. Some of his grandma in there maybe. Be spending more time at Shedd with that kiddo than over a Field.

Sure seemed like at least when it came to stuffies, these kids like the sea life a whole lot more than the dinosaurs that E had went buying for them for him to bring in. To know him until he got in there him – that'd been his logic. Picked Sue the T-Rex for Tilly and Max the Titanosaur for EJ. Pretty sure the selection had been made purely on gender, and hadn't bothered to tell him going on size alone likely was Tilly that emerged the Titanosaur of the two. Both of the stuffed animals were big enough, though, that didn't think Erin or Jay had let them be in the cribs yet with the twins. Still spotted them standing guard in the room. Same as E's bedroom and his fucking dinos.

Wasn't a nefarious bone in that kid's body.

"Just enough to get told she didn't want it to happen again," allowed of Meredith. Though, supposed at least she'd spoken to him. Had even asked – all crossed armed and quiet – how the twins were doing when they were taking their leave. So maybe at some point – with some more time – they'd reach the point of her actually being able to stand being around him. Whole lot of history there. Not just him and Al. Their families. Their losses. "She'd done her best to patch him up some." Maybe that was the first step in them eventually patching things up too.

"Is he okay?" Erin asked.

That got another hum. Not a nod, not a shake. Because Magoo was pretty far from okay these days. Had been for a long time when you got down to it. But lately was a different story.

"He's downstairs," he provided. "Getting some re-patching done."

Erin looked at him again. "He's downstairs and you're not." Statement.

"Jay's with him," he said. "Saw him outside. Asked."

They kept eyes for a bit. A good bit. Hank kept his hand hovering above Tilly. Feeling at the little, light scrunches she was still working around his fingers. A strong enough grip. Getting stronger every day.

"And you're up here." It was another statement of fact out of her. Hung there for a bit.

Had been hanging there with him too. Since he'd come upstairs. But it'd been clear that him and E both needed a beat. A long one.

Magoo could hardly look at him. And he could hardly look his boy in the eye when he was down there.

He was in good hands. It was best to just let things … keep deescalating.

"Lit into him," Hank admitted and looked back at his little grand-girl. Back at the reminder they all start out so tiny. Some ways they always were. Tiny and fragile in their own ways. All of them. All of us. Even when you watch them grow. Even when you can feel the strength in their grip. It's still all so fucking fragile. Life.

"Made him cry," Hank added and looked over at his daughter that time. She was looking right back.

Cry didn't even capture it. E had been trying to choke back sobs so hard that Hank had thought he might need to pull over to talk the kid through a hyperventilation fit. His whole face was just a mess of tears and blood and snot and stringy salvia and gravel by the time they got the car parked. And there was Magoo wiping at it – grinding it all into his open wounds even more – trying to hide the red-faced evidence of what he'd done. And what Hank had done to him too in his reaction.

"Both of us said some things we shouldn't have said," he allowed her again.

"Like?" she put out to him.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **Splitting again. Scene dragging out longer than anticipated to hit on some of the stuff I want to address with this chapter/closure of this part of the story.**

 **I've had some requests about things to go back to write in this set of scenes. I might but no promises. After I finish this scene, I am still more likely to do the short set of chapters that are set in the future.**


	29. Fairness

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

THIS CHAPTER IS A CONTINUATION OF THE 2 SCENES AND HANK/ERIN'S CONVERSATION, WHICH WAS STARTED IN THE CHAPTERS IMMEDIATELY PRIOR TO THIS (BABY GIRL and ROAD RASH).

Hank turned back to look at his granddaughter. So little. You always seem to forget just how little they are when they come into the world. It's easy enough to do when they grow up quick to become giant pains in your ass.

Not that J or E were quite this little. Though, E was close. Close to Tilly – now. Not EJ. He was a bit of a different story.

But Hank still remembered feeling that way when E was born. So little.

And there's the funny thing too - when you have more than one, when you've got those age gaps. First time around, you go through always just feeling like your baby is growing up too quick and becoming a "big kid". They're always your baby growing up. Quick, quick, quick. And at the same time, you're just always pushing them to be a grown-up. To act their age. To be a big boy and then to be a man.

And then that's where the extra funny bit rolls in. Because it's a whole different agenda when your youngest – your last one – rolls along. When they're so little.

And they're your baby. Magoo just always looked so little. There were all these discussions – fights – with Justin over those early years. One, two, three, four.

"He's just a baby."

Him and Cami had to remind the other kids about that so much. Especially his brother. So fucking often. Maybe more than they should or needed too.

But you're always labeling them as the baby. Trying to keep them that way. But with those age gaps, your baby just ends up growing up quicker than your other babies. They've got examples of big kids and what the big kids do. And they're trying so hard to grow up and be like them. So quick.

Wondered a bit how that'd play out with twins. No age gaps there. But could tell there was going to be size gaps likely for a good go of it at the start. Gender, ability, developmental milestone gaps. Likely. Even if this all went well … boys and girls. They're different. Each and every kid is just different.

And then these two – hopefully – they were going to have their cousin around. Hopefully. They were going to have their uncle around. Hopefully. And there was going to be an age gap not so unlike what him and Cami had been juggling in their house with the kids. Be different. Uncle versus sibling. But E and Erin's relationship had been a whole lot of different all these years too.

It'd just be interesting to see how it all played out. For these kids. For this round.

With E it was that he was always just so much littler than his pre-teen brother and teen-aged sister. It's so easy to see how small they really are when you've got other kids around in your life and in your house. Makes you realize how little they are. Just kids. Just babies. How special that is. For all of you. For the family. For the kid. It's a once in a lifetime.

But did mean for him – and especially Camille - they were always still looking at E and thinking of him as a baby – the family's baby. Continued long after they would've been training their first-born to be a "big boy" – calling J a "big boy".

It just happened. Right or wrong. Maybe for the best.

Because E ended up having to grow up quick in too many fucking ways.

And maybe that just made it all that much harder. The perspective on all that. On Camille's baby.

His youngest had missed out on so much of childhood in too many fucking ways.

E'd become a man sooner and differently than Justin. And Hank wasn't sure he'd done much in teaching him how to get there. Not the way he'd had to brow beat J about it until life caught up to him and he finally got enough of a reality check to do his own thinking. To finally get his head on straight.

A baby in the offing does that.

Did it again now. Seeing the same transition with Erin now. The spinning to the head whipping around the right way. Getting back on track.

Kids. End up giving you a lot to think about before they get there. Puts a lot on your mind for years to come. Lifetime to come.

Knew it. Didn't stop. Still happening now. You still worry and still parent. And still figure out how to adjust being a parent to an adult kid that's now a parent.

What to say. What not to say.

Camille would know better. Or she wouldn't have as much of a filter. Hank was being careful not to step on any toes right now. Not to ruffle any hair the wrong way. Not with Erin. Not with Jay. Not to set something off between the both of them either by something he said or did.

He'd already done enough.

Same time – there was a lot he wanted to say. A whole lot he wanted to do as a father. As a grandfather. As a man.

But some lines you just don't cross without invitation.

Had to let them be adults. Be the grown ups and parents and decision makers in the room. Keep his opinions and experiences to himself. How he'd be dealing with this. How he'd prefer to be helping.

But was staying quiet. Necessity in the moment.

Just like E growing up too fast had been a necessity too. Survival and resilience. That maybe he shouldn't have had to. Maybe none of his kids should've had had to resort to that whole survival and resilience thing.

Hadn't really been a walk in the park for any of them. He hadn't been a walk in the park for any of them. Shit he brought into their lives. Shit he'd brought into Camille's life.

Justin had had the easiest go and his wasn't all sunshine and roses. Erin and Ethan. Different. Just real different. Their whole stories. Their childhoods.

And it was still going different now. Still a hard road for Erin now. Was going to be. And he knew she knew it. Knew she'd had a whole lot of lessons in life not being fair and that she was feeling that again. And feeling the way that feels when you know your babies are getting an education in that from the get.

Harder.

His girl was a reminder that no matter how much you do your best to right the cart for your kids – scars of childhood do remain with you. Didn't have to spend too long looking at Jay's ugly mug to know that was radiating off him in a whole lot of ways too.

These grandbabies – wounded parents. Knew that meant their parents would be doing a whole lot of second-guessing of themselves – and what they'd gotten themselves into. But wished Jay and Erin – wanted to tell his grandkids – that wounded parents that were still around, just meant they had strong ones.

You got to keep picking yourself up. But it doesn't change the past.

Those formative years and moments and memories and insecurities and taught and nurture pile up. You're only able to ever pull them so far away from them.

Hank knew that for himself. And he knew it ever better as a parent. It's hard. Makes it feel like you aren't doing your job right.

Might be able to make life a bit better for them – but some of the damage is done. There's only so much fixing it. As a parent you can't fix everything. No matter how much you want to. How much you try to. It's a real humbling experience that way.

About the best way to make you feel helpless and ineffective as a human being is to have yourself some kids.

There's just a whole lot of trying to help them manage what life and childhood and all the people and trauma within it have done. Years and years later.

Erin had enough insecurities about motherhood and parenthood. Enough of her own demons. Enough worries and fears.

And Hank knew now she just had this whole new set of fears. Could see it in her. That she was worrying now hard that it might end up being a hard road for these two little babies she had here.

And maybe it would be. And maybe it wouldn't be.

Hank didn't know what to tell her about it. And didn't get the vibe she really was ready to talk to him or anyone else about much of any of it yet. She wasn't doing a whole lot of talking yet, period. Usually that'd meet his approval. Less chatter the better. But was hard these days. Silence out of all of them seemed to be just making all of it harder. Figured it'd likely reach a point with all of them like him and Magoo that afternoon. Have it out. Say things that shouldn't have been said. That you didn't exactly mean the way they were taken. But that mean a whole lot more when you haven't used many words for weeks. Hold more weight then.

Too much to fucking talk about anymore. Too much to say.

And then some of it there just wasn't much point in talking about.

There wasn't much to say about the babies and their future until they knew more.

And all that could be days and weeks and months and even years down the road. It was better to take it as it came. To deal with it all in the moment.

And it wouldn't really matter. Not the way Erin thought or was worrying about. Likely.

That's the thing with kids. You've got to check your expectations at the door.

You learn that quick too.

You can't project all your own ideas and dreams and wants onto them about the kind of person they were going to be. About who'd they be or how'd they be. It just doesn't work.

The bigger the expectations you have the more you're going to end up being let down.

Your kids aren't going to be born into being the little person you imagined. They'll be their own person.

And you don't have a clue about what kind of parent you will actually be – or are capable of being – until you're thrown in the midst of it all.

And having too many expectations for your kids – your kids feeling like you've got a whole lot of expectations for them – ends up creating this whole different battle and letdown. A lot of hurt. Damage to relationships. Arguments. Not just with your kid. With your spouse.

Hank knew all three of his kids had tested his notion of parenthood and fatherhood. None of them had made it a cake walk. None of them had exactly been the kind of kid he might've imagined himself having or being the father of. And he hadn't been the father he thought he'd be before he had kids either. And knew too he'd had to be a father in a different to all three of them. Because all three of them needed different things out of him. You change. Life changes you. Circumstances change. And your kids grow and change too.

But while they're doing that they grow on you. Just like they're making you grow. And you deal with it.

You come to realize that learning about these little strangers it what it's all about. And the way they are just becomes the way they are. It's them. And that's usually enough. It's what you like about them. Love about them.

Their quirks and challenges and personalities and abilities and disabilities and interests and all of that – you learn to love it. No matter how fucking annoying – how fucking much of a pain in the ass. Hard not to love with this piece of you that's staring you in the face. Even if they make you look in a lot of mirrors while you're at it. But that's just part of the process of making you grow – person, man, parent.

If either of these grandkids ended up with having some problems and challenges – that was just going to be part of the kids they were. And are. It'd be how the family would know them. How Erin and Jay would raise them. And it'd only be one piece of them.

And it'd reach the point they couldn't imagine having the twins any other way. Couldn't imagine being parents to any other people.

But hard to see that in the moment. Hank knew that. Knew right now it was all just scary.

He was scared for them too. Scared for the babies. Scared for Erin and Jay.

He felt for them. He understood where they were coming from. He'd been there. He was still there in a whole lot of ways. He knew the years and years of challenges it set you up for. And a whole lot of sadness, guilt and pain.

And he knew they'd seen enough in the family and their lives to have some idea of what exactly they may end up facing. What their kids might be facing.

And all that was legitimate reason to be worried. But you also just had to deal.

And they would.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **I'm having trouble wrapping this. And haven't felt much like writing it.**

 **Right now the plan is to do one more chapter here that's a continuation from Hank POV's with his and Erin's dialogue finishing out. Then I'll likely close it out with an Erin POV, still in dialogue with Hank in this same scene.**

 **I've had some requests for a wrap out with Hank/Ethan to get more perspective on where Eth is at. Not sure if I'll do that. I have an idea how and what I want said (and set-up). But I also am not sure I want to end the series on that note.**

 **Obviously, there's lots of people that would prefer it to end with a Jay/Erin scene. I agree that another Jay/Erin scene would be nice. But don't really feel that it would close up the series with a "resolution". It'd more end up being a sort of stand-alone scene, which I think sort of defeats the purpose.**

 **I am still playing with doing the short set of scenes set in the future. But right now I'm feeling that might be less likely to happen. It'd provide some people "resolution". But it'd ultimately just be kind of a lot of fluff so people could see them as parents and get a sense of where/who the twins are. In terms of setting it, if I do it, I'm trying to decide if to set it around Jay's birthday/the twin's birthday, Father's Day, Ethan's birthday (or his high school graduation), or around the July 4th. It'd just be about 3-5 scenes mostly focused on Jay and Erin (and the twins) with an appearance by Hank and Ethan. I am also trying to figure out where Will might be in his life 3-7 years down the road. And what his relationship with the Natalie character might be.**

 **I've been playing with a chapter for So It Goes to sort of jump back to before their lives were kind of screwed up. Just to get a break. It's fluffy. I'm not sure when/if I'll finish it.**

 **I've also had requests to jump back in here and write up the baby shower. And also to explore a bit more how Ethan is handling all this (twin's birth, Al's death, Erin being home, high school, how his dad is interacting with it all, etc.). I think that'd be interesting.**


	30. The Leash

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

THIS CHAPTER IS A CONTINUATION OF THE 3 SCENES AND HANK/ERIN'S CONVERSATION, WHICH WAS STARTED IN THE CHAPTERS IMMEDIATELY PRIOR TO THIS (BABY GIRL and ROAD RASH and FAIRNESS).

Hank stroked at Tilly's soft little cheek with the back of his knuckle.

She made a little 'o' with her mouth. Couldn't tell if that was a protest or a sign she liked it. He was still working on getting a read on these two kids. Trying to learn their likes and dislikes. How to help and calm them. How to do the same for their parents. But could only do so much right now. Only being let in on any of this so much.

Bit of a learning moment. Had done a whole lot in holding Erin at arm's length and making sure she knew her place when it came to E's health. Been selective about what he told her for years and years. Despite her wanting to know. Despite all her help. Despite her being involved. What she'd taken on. For her brother and for the family.

He'd still made sure she knew her place. And that wasn't the parent. And he'd only ever sat and heard out her opinion on all of it so much. Had outright said to her she wasn't the parent and wasn't the decision-maker. More than once.

Shouldn't have done that. Might be truth to it. Reality. But was getting to feel some of the sting of it all now.

Wasn't pushing. And he was being fed some information. He was getting to see his grandkids. But sure wished he was being told a bit more. Getting to sit in on some of the powwows with the docs to have a better understanding of what all was going on. To ask some of his own questions.

Had lots. Really wanted to have a better grip on what was going on. For the twins and for their parents. To get some perspective on what the coming weeks and months might look like. Things that'd have to be taken into consideration in the coming years. Things to watch for. Best way to support all of them. To do the proper planning. To make sure they all had their heads on straight. Himself included. So he could still be there for his family. All of them. Grandkids and his kid. Erin. Jay too.

But he wasn't the parent. Not to the babies. But was to another person in the room.

Your kids are always your kids.

Had learned that good. But had also learned that when one of your kids is sick, they don't just stay your kids. There's a lot of moments where you look at them and still see them as your 'baby'. They stay your 'baby' on some level. Mushy-gushy but just another reality.

Knew that even though Erin and Jay and Tilly and EJ would get to move beyond all this that it was going to be a big part of their memories. And have implications for how they saw their kids. How they parented.

And it'd have even more implications if either of these kiddos ended up looking at a life that saw them getting to spend too much time in hospitals and in front of doctors.

Get in those hospital doors and get them up on a hospital bed – and all you'll be thinking about is this is your kid. Your baby. This little person you made and brought into the world.

E was still "the baby". There were still a whole lot of ways when he looked at his youngest that he saw Camille's "baby". Lots of moments that were stark reminders of that. Still one of his 'babies' too. Them that little – it gets seared into you in a way. Still always there somewhere in the back of your mind. Or the mind's eye when you look at them in certain settings and circumstances.

But now E was getting to the age you couldn't really see him that way.

E's body might not be on track for manhood. Still small. Still fragile. Still looked like a little boy. And maybe his mind and his personality weren't quite there yet with all his quirks. But even those quirks and interests were leaning more into skills and knowledge and becoming more mature.

And then shit happened. Like today. Like more and more often anymore in all this fucking mess. And that just slapped you right in the face that Ethan wasn't a baby anymore.

He was a teenager. A young man. And he had the attitude problems and moodiness and mouthiness to go along with it.

It's funny too when they're this little that you have no idea just the kind of shit they are going to say to you. The kind of pain and anger this little person you gave existence to is going to provide.

Maybe you think you do. You should. Should remember all the bullshit you pulled as a teen. All the crap that came out of your mouth. All the buttons you pushed and boundaries you tested. And just shit you got into. But, suppose you always think it's going to be different with your kids.

It's not. Karma's a bitch. Even if you didn't fucking believe in it.

Your kids are all going to cut into you eventually. In their own ways. And it's going to hurt.

And you're going to lose your patience. Or lose your temper. You're going to get hurt.

And you're going to end up being one of the people who hurts them too. Doesn't matter how much you swear up and down you'd never hurt them. How much you're going to take care of them and protect them.

You're eventually going to have these times where you lash right back and say – or do – a lot of shit you shouldn't say or do. Moments where you aren't much of a parent.

You just become another human being trying to hurt this other human being that cut into you.

It happens. It'd happened with all three of his kids.

And he knew it wasn't just him. Cami and Justin had it out more than once. Cami and Erin.

Knew Al had been there with Lexi too.

He'd been there with his own mom and dad too. Different – different time and generation. But still the same in a lot of ways. Cami and her mom had had some real moments. Moms and daughters – just as complicated as fathers and sons.

Erin and Jay would see. Now. Again. From the other side of it. And coming at them from both sides. Son and a daughter. They were in for a ride.

But it was all just part of raising a family. Part of having a family. Having people who love you. Who you love.

They know how to hurt you the most.

You know how to hurt each other the most.

Coming down from it. A couple hours out. And he didn't even know what had gotten him and Magoo growling at each other.

Knew generally. E's stunt. E not listening. And it just all layered into everything else that was going on. Both of them at the ends of their ropes and their emotions running high.

And they'd just managed to punch at the right buttons in each other.

The words that pushed the right button. The lead up. Now he couldn't say.

Talk back. E talking back at him. With that fucking tone.

And then he'd pushed it. Work. Al. Justin. His mom. The drinking. The smoking. Making him sound shitty as a cop, parent and spouse.

Hank had gone off. Right off the leash.

If E wanted to talk about responsibilities – him and school. Responsibility. That was his son's fucking job. His education. Being a worthwhile and contributing fucking human being and member of society. Not a fucking spoiled, cushy little brad. School, community, family. That's what he needed to be doing. Studying. Chores. Showing the fuck up. Not pulling fucking disappearing acts.

If he wanted to talk about sacrifice. The whole fucking family had sacrificed for him. Over and over again. For him to go and do exactly what Hank had told him not to. That he couldn't fucking be doing at this point in the school year. For him to go and skip class when his entire fucking education was a fucking negotiation to keep him from getting held back. To keep him on the IEP. To give him fucking opportunities. To keep him out of summer school - like he fucking wanted.

And he goes and pulls another fucking stunt. After all the fucking sacrifice him, Erin - Jay, Olive - put in to drag him through the school year. And he'd gone and thrown his mom's name and his brother's name right back at him. Their fucking sacrifices in the family and for the family and for him too. To give him all these fucking opportunities to try to have a 'normal' life and childhood. To have friends and activities. To build himself a future.

And he should've left it at that. His anger and frustration with his son should've stopped there in trying to get him to fucking listen. It'd been more than enough of a sermon. Harsh enough.

But it hadn't stopped either of them. There'd been lip back from Ethan. And it'd pushed the buttons even more. Hank had come out with casting it as them making all these sacrifices for him – and added on a nice 'for what'.

And let it hang there.

For what.

For what. When his kid's future was so uncertain. When all this sacrifice and money and time and opportunities they were trying to provide him – the childhood and life and future and adulthood they were trying to set him up for – might amount to nothing. It might come to a fucking abrupt stop. It might not be a fucking future he was capable of. Or a future he'd been around for.

But they still fucking sacrificed and fought for him. And 'for what'.

Why? Fucking why?

That'd done a good job at shutting his son up.

He'd managed to get his son to hear that. Good.

But it hadn't been the words he wanted his kid to hear. Shouldn't have been the takeaway. But there it was.

And there the quiet, restrained, blubbering sobs out of his kid had really set in.

And Hank had just sat there. White knuckling the steering wheel and shutting the fuck up too.

He'd managed to delegitimize his kid's entire existence. Make him feel like he wasn't fucking worth anything. Knew it as soon as the silence set it. As soon as the spew out of the both of them had stopped in its tracks.

He'd made his son feel like all of them were sick of him and the life he had – and what that had meant for their family's life.

He'd managed to confirm Ethan's biggest insecurity. His self-doubt and self-torture.

That everyone would've preferred that his mom be the one who pulled through that collision. That everyone would've preferred it'd been him who died. That it should've been him who died.

Confirmation that E didn't need to be thinking of or hearing. Not when Hank already knew his son had a whole lot of days that he already wished he was dead. That E had days where he outright expressed he wished he'd hurry up in die. Or even worse for any parent to hear out their kid's mouths – that he wished he had the courage to hurry it up himself.

And all those times where Hank preached at E that living took a whole lot more courage than that had been delegitimized too.

Shouldn't have said it. Hadn't been much of a parent in that moment.

Maybe he hadn't been much of one for a while. Supposed it depended on how you started measuring it - just how long that had been.

Knew at least to Magoo he hadn't been doing so great at it this past month. Really was likely more like since Denny started coming at him in September.

Though, knew all his kids could put up an argument that he'd had a lot of moments since Camille had been gone he hadn't been much of a parent. That there'd been arguments throughout all three of their growing up that he'd never been much of a present parent to any of them.

Knew that was true. And it wasn't.

Tried to parent through example and action. Through providing. That was his expression of love.

It's a hard balance. With the job. With who he was. Kind of person he was. But he'd done his best. Best he'd known how. Best he could.

But E had taken his turn to throw at him that day that it hadn't been enough. Especially of late.

Hank just made a sound. At himself. At nothing. At just all of it.

"He was at me," he muttered. At himself. At Tilly. At Erin. He didn't know.

Maybe more at Camille. Lately been feeling that pull. Wishing she was around to help him navigate his messes.

She'd know better how to deal with all of this. The right way. Ethan. Erin. The grandkids. Hospitals. Shit he was feeling about Al. About Lexi and Meredith.

Maybe she would've said something to reel him in or get his head on straight – least facing a different way – before he'd landed himself in any of this.

"About?" Erin pressed again.

Hank shrugged and shook his head, just staring at his granddaughter. "He's unimpressed with how I'm spending my off-duty hours."

"Does that mean he called you out on looking and smelling like you've been sleeping in the bar alley?" she said.

He gave a smack and turned to give her a look. Didn't need more lip from any of them. But she just met his eyes.

"Someone needs to be saying that to you."

Hank scrubbed at his face and went back to staring at his granddaughter. She was right. Camille wouldn't be tolerating it. He'd be sleeping on the couch if he was lucky. More likely she'd be telling him he could come home after he'd cleaned himself up and pulled of his fucking socks. That he started acting like the man and husband and father that she'd signed up for. That he'd promised he'd be.

Knew too he couldn't be letting it go on. Not good for the job. And not good for the family. Not for Ethan. And knew if Erin was the woman and mother Camille had put all that energy into trying to model for her – that his girl wouldn't be tolerating him being like that around her kids either. Knew he couldn't be. Not the kind of grandparent his grandkids needed. Especially right now. Not the kind of father Erin or Ethan needed either.

Just … needed something to numb the pain. Quiet all his own self-doubt and self-loathing for a bit too. Regret. Anger. At himself. At the choices he'd made in the moment. The convictions he'd stood by. Whether he was right or wrong. How it'd worked out and how it hadn't.

Problem was with all of it was that it was numbing him. At home. And on the job.

That wasn't working either. Couldn't be the way it worked. Not with Eth at home. Not with these grandbabies where they were at and Erin and Jay trying to sort all that out as first-time parents, a young family. Not with shit Olive had going on in her life and with Henry.

Not if he wanted to keep his job. To have that outlet. To support his family. And his city. To be a fucking worthwhile human being of his own.

He was going to have to find another outlet. But supposed that scared him a bit too. Especially now. Without Al around. Without Camille around.

He knew the way he could go. And the necessary might start to be a whole lot more subjective if the necessary became just an excuse to have an outlet.

And would that keep him his job? Let him do his job better? Support his family better? Take care of the city better? Or just fuck it up even more.

"Did good at knocking him off at the knees too," he muttered.

He could feel Erin's eyes on him. Feel her holding her own little boy while she tried to figure out what she was going to say. If she was going to say anything.

"Tough love won't work on Ethan, Hank," she said.

He just grunted. Knew that. Hadn't worked with Justin either. Had with Erin. To a point. But that was a whole different story. A whole different kid. Just like E was a whole different kid. And he hadn't gone that route yet with E.

Wasn't sure he ever would. Not given the whole circumstances. Though, the more and more he became a teenager – and the more and more he had to accept that – there were moments where he felt like he had to be harder on him. Just to get him to listen. To calm down. To hear him. To pay a-fucking-ttention.

"You never were as hard on us as you think," she offered. "Even when you were."

He turned again. Looked at the way EJ was sleeping against her. Curled right up and soaking it in. As hard as these days were, in some ways it was easier than any of it ever got to be over the years.

Wished it was that easy now. That you holding them was about all they wanted and needed to calm down. To feel loved and supported. To comfort them.

Supposed in some ways it was still that easy. His son still wanted and needed that too. He still sought it out. But it'd been less and less lately. Because Ethan was getting older? Or because Hank just hadn't been as available lately?

Thought Erin could use a hug too. He'd never been too good at establishing that kind of physical relationship with her. Or maintaining it with Justin after he hit puberty. Different with Erin. Complicated.

But he hugged his kids. Told his kids he loved them. Tried to tell them they did good. Though, likely spent more time telling them when they screwed up.

She wasn't screwing up right now, though. She was doing good. Probably better than she thought. But thought she could use a bit of a hug to prove it. Wasn't likely to ask him for that, though. To initiate it.

Hoped she was getting that kind of support and connection from Jay. Moments like this were fucking hard on relationships. Brought you together while setting you right at each other's necks. Tore you down before building you up. Maybe that was what they both needed. What their little family needed to work. To give them that foundation they were going to need for the slog of it all.

But also knew that getting a hug – support, comfort, approval, affirmation – from a parent was different than getting it from your suppose. Counted for different things.

But needed to respect her space on this. Personal space. Body space. Emotional space. Always had to.

Hard.

Hard to admit you needed some of that from your family when you were the kind of people him and Erin were.

Same time without Camille – some hugs from his kids in all of this was about as close as he could get in trying to find some support and comfort in getting his head on straight to rebound from all this. Like a fucking pussy.

"He'll be okay," Erin said. "You'll be too. We all will."

He grunted. Nodded. Knew that. He'd fix it. The best he ever was able to fix anything when it came to family. And Magoo.

"Just so frustrated with him," he graveled. At Tilly. At Erin.

At Camille. Himself. Al.

"He just doesn't fucking listen."

"Hank," she said firmly. There was warning in her voice.

Gave her a glance. Eyes said clearly his language needed an adjustment. Filter.

She was right.

He stroked at Tilly's little hand. Didn't need the men in her life talking like that. And EJ didn't need the men in his life setting some kind of example that that was the acceptable way for anyone to be talking.

Pretty sure if Camille had been around him, Erin and Ethan would've paid for a weekend getaway or Christmas stockings on the family's behalf with the way she'd be catching them and collecting on the swear jar.

Actually unlikely it'd go towards a family present. That'd be a reward for their behavior. More likely she'd be emptying the jar out for charity. Or maybe treating herself – drinks or dinner with friends – for having put up with them.

She deserved that. She put up with a lot.

Put up with so much. And now she was missing so much. She'd know how to navigate all of this so much better than him.

Fuck. She'd known how to navigate all of it better than him as a fifteen-year-old girl. And spent the next thirty-five years trying to show him how to deal with life without going off the rails. Though, had tolerated him going off leash.

She'd given him that leash, though. Those reasons. To keep reeling him in. Keep in grounded.

Right now he wasn't feeling that pull so much. And was at the same time. Different kind of anchor now.

Right here. Tilly and EJ. Going to need to be the new anchor to keep his head on straight and nose clean. To stay on that leash. So Erin didn't go cutting him loose to keep him away from all of them. Keep his bite from turning into some kind of rabid rabies that infected the whole fucking family.

There. Again. Fucking.

They'd have to get better about that now that there were more babies on the scene.

Been lax about it lately. And shouldn't be.

Not with Henry at the age he heard and repeated everything. Olive had already pointed out she was unimpressed with some of the language that H had spouted after spending time with him and Magoo. Slip ups.

"Told him he couldn't be skipping," Hank said. "Not at this point in the year. Not right before exams. Not with all the school's missed. Have had to argue all year about his absences and attendance. Now …," he shook his head. "I don't know."

Erin made a little sound and he gave her another look. "Hank, it's Ditch Day. He's just trying to … fit in."

"That will work on real well if they decide to hold him back," he graveled.

Hadn't worked real well to begin with. Ditch Day. Ditch Day the kids are supposed to be on the beach or at the ball game or over at Six Flags. Least Iggy's kids with a padded wallet. And Ethan? Not doing any of that.

At fucking Al's.

That's not Ditch Day. Not fitting in.

"They aren't going to hold him back over Ditch Day," Erin said. "They've likely already have scheduled a service day for the entire student body as their penance. Worst that will happen is detention."

"Summer school," Hank rasped.

Erin shrugged. "Then he'll have to live with those consequences. His choice, his actions."

Truth to that. But not quite how reality worked. Not when you were the parent.

"Hank, you've given him a long leash this year."

"To hang himself," he graveled. Seemed to be the way it was working.

He ran his thumb across Tilly's little forehead. So much hair on this one. The starts of some swirls were on EJ now. Just a little. Right now it looked like they were going to have a good bit of Irish in them. Fair, fair kids. Could see some of the red-head in EJ's starting wisps. Tilly too in the right light. But it was light. Thought the two of them might be little strawberry blondes as it really came in.

Camille would've just gone gah-gah over that. Camera would've been always out. Though, could tell these were going to be good looking kids. Wished there were more pictures getting taken. Didn't think that Erin and Jay were taking many with the babies like this. But they should be. They'd move beyond this and they'd want to remember this even though there'd be parts of it they didn't want. Should take Olive up on her offer to come in and get some newborn shots for them. Of them. All four of them. Still newborns even if they were preemies. His daughter-in-law would still be able to get some real nice, tasteful shots despite how little they were. Despite all the equipment and the fucking harsh lighting in the room. The way all that made them just look smaller and sicker, because that's just what hospitals fucking did. Knew that.

It'd be interesting to see them grow up. Watch the way they looked and changed. Knew the orange tinges might not last. Henry had looked like he was going to have his mom's orange curls and as the baby fluff grew out, ended up with his dad's complexion and some kind of brown on his head. Same with Magoo. Been so blond as a little guy and he'd darkened up over the years. In too many ways.

Figured the same was true for the two Halstead boys. Could see in both of them that they'd likely been flaming red-headed, freckled-faces when they were little. They'd grown out of it. Maybe Tilly and EJ would too. Saw a whole lot of his girl in both of them. So might be her dirty blonde locks they ended up with when it was said and done. Likely already were just as stubborn as her. Had to be with what they were going through.

Family tradition. Trait.

"We can't start blaming you for what we do," Erin said.

He shook his head a bit. She was spouting lines at him. Lines from his parental repertoire. Things he'd laid down for Erin and for Justin. Things he was having to start lay out more and more for Magoo.

But felt harder this time around. Felt fucking harder right now.

"Hank, you gave all of us a long leash. And, you know what? I meant sometimes we yanked too hard and that choker dug into our neck. But you were always good about having enough of a grip on the line that you'd get us pulled back in before we hung ourselves."

He snorted at that. He wasn't much for analogies. Least not when they were being spouted at him. Though he did his share of preaching. For all that was ever worth. Or had accomplished.

"You've got to stop being so hard on yourself," she pressed at him.

But he wasn't sure he agreed with her there. Thought maybe he needed to be harder.

"You doing that – it's just going to be what hurts the people you care about most."

And he looked over at her and his grandson again. He was so fucking small on top of her. Just a little, little guy.

"There's a lot of people who need you right now, Hank," she said. "Bad news and all."


	31. All of This

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS A CONTINUATION OF THE 4 SCENES AND HANK/ERIN'S CONVERSATION, WHICH WAS STARTED IN THE CHAPTERS IMMEDIATELY PRIOR TO THIS. This one switches to Erin's POV.**

Erin eyed Hank. He was doing his best not to look at her and not to talk. His usual 'the less conversation, the better' stance. Or more the usual that any conversation was really more of an interrogation where he mostly spoke to you in questions. That he just wanted simple, straight-forward and honest answers. And he sat there doing his 'look you in the eye' lie detector thing in measuring how much he believed what you were telling him.

She knew he'd been biting his tongue a bit these days. He hadn't been interrogating her – but they also hadn't really been conversing, period even when he did come in and she stated and didn't take the visit as a chance to stretch, use the bathroom, shower and see what was being sold as food in the hospital cafeteria. She usually stayed. Leaving the room as still hard even when someone else was there – when the nurses were aware of the monitors.

But even when she stayed they still just mostly listened to the monitors. Sometimes he talked a little bit to the babies. But he didn't say much and he wasn't much for baby talk. Erin could tell he was just saying enough where he thought he was getting them use to his voice. She didn't think it was the same with babies, though, where his scruff, gruff rasp would be as intimidating as it was the street kids and gang kids that Hank spent so much of his career dealing with. The twins didn't seem to notice or mind. So maybe he was doing it right. That that'd just be the way grandpa talked and probably the way the thought all grandpas were supposed to sound.

It was still strange to think of him and see him that way, even though she'd had time to get used to the role with him and Henry. But that was different. Henry wasn't her child, and she thought in a lot of ways she'd never really registered him as "grandpa" with Henry. Though, she wasn't really sure what she thought a "grandpa" was. Camille's dad had been around for a while while she was living with the Voights. But, even though he warmed up to her eventually and never treated her poorly, she wasn't sure he'd ever really fit her expectation of what a grandfather was. Or that she'd really thought of him in that role for her. Just like she doubted that Camille's parents had ever really thought of her as one of the grandkids.

It was just another reference point of what family – and family roles – was supposed to look like. Vague notions based on what she saw in other people's lives and other people's families. Stereotypes in TV and movies that basically amounted to little girl fantasies that got ingrained in you even when you'd long grown up.

Jay had a firm grasp of what he felt a grandfather should be. Biased in a different way than the stereotypes she'd been swayed by. The ones that she knew would never be met, just like she suspected that Hank might never really meet Jay's expectations of what he thought – and wanted – a grandfather to be for his kids. Hank wasn't his grandfather. But, she also thought that the twins would likely need a different kind of grandfather than what Jay – and Will – had needed. Their childhoods would be different. Her and Jay would be different parents than what Jay's mom and dad had been to him. Hank wouldn't have to step up in the same way as Jay's grandfather had – she hoped. If they managed not to screw this up.

Hank didn't fit some fantasy of what a grandparent should be. He didn't look or act like the stereotype. But it was becoming increasingly apparent it was going to be all the twins had. Not just the only grandfather in their life – their only grandparent. And, even though he might not ascend the pedestal Jay had created for grandfather status based on his experience growing up, she'd seen enough of his interactions with Henry to know he was a good grandpa. He tried hard. Just like he was trying now to be there for her and for the twins.

Maybe they were at the point that she needed to accept how he was trying a bit more. The barriers and walls they'd created around their little fragile family and the bubble they were living in in NICU were going to have to start to come down. They were going to have to accept … help. Something neither her nor Jay were particularly good at most of the time.

Hank still asked her questions. But he was judicial with them – and up to that point she'd been judicial, if not completely vague and elusive – with a lot of her answers. Jay was even worse about it – their privacy – when he'd been the one who'd taken on a lot of the communication with the outside world. Or at least anyone beyond Hank and Olive.

Erin could tell Hank wanted a whole lot more answers and information than he was getting. But he hadn't been overly pushy about it. He hadn't gone to his other extreme where if he wasn't asking questions, he was giving orders. That part of him that showed he only had so many social skills – outside of the job – and that he maybe was the job in a few too many ways. Or at least he liked the way it operated.

She did too. And Jay did too. Or he had. Right now he was confused about the whole work situation and what he'd be walking back into when his leave was up. She wasn't sure either of them really wanted him walking back into whatever situation and dynamic was waiting in the bullpen. But they both likely needed to be talking to Hank better if they wanted to have some sort of readiness for when he did go back to the job. But they weren't talking about that either. She wasn't really sure if Hank would. Or if any of them should.

Professional and personal, especially right now until the witch hunt was over. Until the Ivory Tower and Internal Affairs decided who'd be held accountable for what happened. Who would be offered up to the media – and the city – as a sacrificial lamb. And just how Hank – and his future – fit in all that. And just how much all of Intelligence would pay for all that. And if they were putting Hank on administrative leave now, they were likely moving toward a decision about just how they were going to be acting on any of it.

Maybe it was better Jay take his entire FMLA allocation now and not be there for the fallout. Maybe it'd mean he'd end up landing on his feet somewhere in all of this – after all of it blew over. If it could.

Maybe it would at work. Sometimes the city had a short memory – because the media and the 24-hour news cycle did. They'd move on to the next "story". But she knew that the fallout in their family was going to last far beyond that. And their family didn't have a short memory. It's hard too when all kinds of reminders are there in your every day life.

Right that afternoon with Hank sitting there and knowing Ethan was downstairs in the ED. With Eli against her and Mattie waiting patiently in her crib. With Jay pacing and their own tension and him giving her some space – that seemed to be going on and on that afternoon, even though she now knew it was because he was downstairs with Ethan, doing his part to try to ease some of the fallout that was falling down around them. All the hurt all of them were experiencing. Four weeks hadn't lead to numbness for any of them yet.

"How's he really doing?" she asked.

She'd do her own interrogation and see if that got them anywhere. It seemed like maybe he was a bit more willing to talk that afternoon than he had been for the past month. He'd formed sentences that didn't end with a question mark with her.

Though, she didn't really need to ask that question.

Hank just hummed – like that was an answer. He seemed much more interested in just staring at Mattie.

Erin could tell he was giving her gentle rubs and circular motions that likely betrayed to the nursing staff that saw him in there that he'd had a baby of his own in NICU years ago. Maybe it betrayed to her that these weeks weren't something that just faded away. But she already knew that. She could feel it ingraining in all of them. As much as she was fighting to keep all of this – at least aspects of this – from becoming a defining moment for them.

"That's not an answer," she put back to him.

Hank gave a little shrug at that and gave her a glance. "Struggling," he graveled.

"With which part of it?" she said.

Hank grunted and went back to looking at Mattie. "All of it."

That should've been an obvious answer. But it wasn't the one she wanted.

"The babies …?" she asked.

Because she'd worried just where and how they fit into all of this for Ethan. What it was doing him mentally and emotionally – and what that in turn would do to him physically. But just like she was being cautious with what she still shared with Hank, it felt like no one was telling her the truth in where Ethan was at. Even Ethan – like he'd been instructed not to. Like right now he was being told that it was her and the babies that needed all the protecting.

Hank looked at her more directly. He'd heard her insecurity and fears.

"Erin, think he's got about every major holiday and family outing planned up to their tenth birthdays."

She allowed a thin smile and rubbed at Eli's little back. She wondered which baby would end up gravitating to her little brother more. And which one Ethan would be drawn to. How their interests or personalities would match up. But she also knew that it likely wouldn't matter. Ethan fussed over Henry and she'd fussed over Ethan. And she still did. They were a part of you.

"Al …," she offered quietly. But it was another obvious statement – so much so it wasn't a question. They were all struggling with that. They always would be.

Hank grunted. It wasn't a topic they were going to talk about that day – clearly. Erin wasn't sure if and when he'd talk to her about it. Or what either of them would manage to say about any of it.

Maybe Jay had said it best. That everything was different now. That Hank was going to be broken. That Hank loved Al. That Hank had lost his best friend, his priest and confessor, his shrink and his ally. And the way Jay said it – he'd gotten that far-off, triggered look with the glassy eyes. He was broken too. They all were.

But Erin had spent hours and days and weeks in here trying to process it. In this bubble – this glass room – that felt more like an observation room for the prison loony some hours and days and weeks in all of this. And she'd realized – once again - Hank just kept losing so many people who held those titles until they'd all fallen on all. His dad and Camille and Justin and now Al. Al had carried a lot of Hank. A lot for their family. For their family on the job too.

And now he was just gone. And Erin didn't know who – or how – to get any of those roles filled for Hank right now. Even though none of that was her responsibility but she also felt like it was. Because she'd sat there in her own teary daze of trying to keep all of this separate from her babies – to protect them from their sadness and guilt and stress – but it was so hard to turn it all off to. And she'd realized that she already had so many of those titles wrapped up in Jay. He was her best friend. Her priest and guidance counselor and confessor. Her shrink and therapist and sounding board. Her ally. And she loved him for all of that. He was her lover in more ways than she'd ever really considered the word work or applied – even when they weren't working. And she didn't want to think about how broken and lost and alone she'd feel if any happened to Jay. If she lost Jay. If the babies lost Jay. Especially now.

But managed to give his head a little shake – like that pushed forward the conversation in any way. He glanced back over his shoulder at her again. "More than that."

"School," she suggested. Obvious – based on what he'd said. But it was going to always be an obvious stressor and burden for the rest of Ethan's academic life.

So Hank just grunted again.

"Eva?" she tried instead. It barely got a sound – but there was a sound. "He said that Eva's dad and grandma aren't too excited about her hanging around us these days," she offered.

It got a little smack but not a look.

"Ethan shouldn't be the one in all of this being held accountable for what the media decided to put on the front page," she said.

Hank didn't say anything.

"Maybe one of us should talk to her dad," Erin put more bluntly. Because her brother needed – deserved – someone in all of this to talk to and to be close to. And Erin didn't get the sense that was going to be her or Hank right now. Maybe her or Hank couldn't be right now. Maybe they shouldn't be. Maybe they were too close to all of it.

He did turn to look at her with that. "Likely just complicate things," he put to her very directly. "She's finding her place. Remember what your first year at Ignatius was like."

Erin stared at him at that. "Then maybe she'd appreciate having a real friend still there when whatever little clique she's in decides she's not good enough for them."

He kept her eyes. "Also remember you and J playing the violins about high school social circles being real complicated and full of all kinds of meanies."

And he was back to looking at Mattie. She glared at the back of his head.

"What's that mean?" she demanded.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **Still splitting this scene. There will be a continuation from Erin's POV. The next post will likely be the last of this AU.**

 **Depending on the way I feel about it there's a very small possibility that there will be a Hank/Ethan chapter, a whole family chapter, and then a closing Erin/Ethan chapter. But I suspect that the next post will end this scene in a logical place and a good note so I might just feel comfortable leaving it there.**

 **I'm still likely going to do a few chapters set in the future. Right now I'm not feeling it as much. There's only about 240 of you guys still reading at this point, and I'm not really feeling the story anymore since, as I've said before, not seeing the character interactions and storylines in the TV series. So it's hard to draw inference and to be inspired to exprapolate on much or even her their voices/dialogue to try to keep them in character and explore their stories.**

 **I got asked what fluff from SIG I'm working on and it's been the finishing up the Spring Break/graduation trip that Erin and Jay took Ethan on. But it's been kind of clunking too. So I'm not sure if/when I'll finish it or if it will be worth posting if I do.**

 **Thanks to the few of you who still read and the fewer of you who still review. I'm doing my best to get this wrapped to give it some kind of conclusion.**


	32. Oh Wow

**Title: Spring Forward**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS A CONTINUATION OF THE 4 SCENES AND HANK/ERIN'S CONVERSATION, WHICH WAS STARTED IN THE CHAPTERS IMMEDIATELY PRIOR TO THIS. This the second one from Erin's POV. You can find the first half of it immediately prior to this chapter.**

Maybe she'd made the demand of Hank too harshly. Eli stirred from his sleep a bit and she rubbed at his back and gave him some little shushes.

He was doing so well – out of the incubator, regulating his body temperature and breathing. She'd had him on her chest for a while. She'd like to keep it that way – get him used to, and able to, spend more and more time out of his crib. And with her. He still seemed to prefer Jay. He claimed it was because he was warmer than her. She'd contended that that wasn't accurate and he'd contended that she complained that he was like a furnace in bed all the time – any added excuse to put the pillow wall between them. They barely needed blankets he generated so much heat.

Though, she didn't think their internal body temperature really was dictating Eli's preference. Though, maybe it was. In some ways it seemed like a more logical explanation than assuming that her four-week old preemie had just decided he liked Daddy better. That was likely just her insecurity talking. The fear that she still didn't know how to be a mother or wasn't going to be an overly good one and wasn't able to provide these babies with what they needed.

But she was trying to be more level-headed about it all. She had to be. There was too much going on in reality to be hard on herself about things she might just be imaging. Not that she was really imaging that Eli seemed to settle better for Jay. She was seeing it on a nearly daily basis. But at least he was starting to get better about kangarooing with her too.

That afternoon he was. So she couldn't let her body language deter him from that. They sensed everything. Not just when you were holding them. They could feel it in the room. It happened repeatedly.

There'd already been times were her and Jay had had to establish they'd leave the room when they were starting to get upset – agitated or overly emotional about something. The babies could sense it. Their breathing and heart rates changed. There was one day while the doctors were in there looking at their brain waves when her and Jay had both been a little teary about the way the day had gone and some of the discussions they'd been having with the medical staff. And you could see their brain waves changing too.

They didn't need that energy in the room with them. It was upsetting them and likely making it that much harder for them to get well and get home. But it was hard to keep everything level-headed and neutral or anywhere near resembling joyous and happy with everything that was going on. Not just with Mattie and EJ – but at home and work and in life.

Hank noticed Eli stir too and moved his eyes off Mattie to stare at his grandson.

Hank tended to gravitate toward Mattie when he was in. Though, Erin supposed she'd known that might happen.

It'd been pretty clear – as obvious as Hank let anything be – that he was looking forward to having a granddaughter. Maybe a grandson – or another boy – was just a little to been there, done that for him.

Though, Erin also thought he found Eli still a little too fragile to be getting too close. Jay's body language when Hank was in the room and near the babies likely didn't help much either.

Just like Hank seemed to be biting his tongue, Erin thought he was giving them a lot of space – while still trying to be present.

That was going to have to change, though. They were going to have to let him be more present. Let him in the room more. And Jay was going to have adjust his body language and energy he was giving off while Hank was around and trying to help too. They were both going to need to figure out how to get their heads on straight about what had happened on the job and what that meant for the family. And establish some way to look at Hank as who he was in their family and personal life versus who and what he was to them – and others – when he was on the job.

It felt bigger and more complicated now. For years Erin had let Hank carry most of the responsibility since he was the one establishing his rules and she was busy scuffing at them – or breaking them. Some of them just hadn't felt like they made since or she really hadn't cared if she was pushing his buttons and pushing the boundaries. She'd framed it as she was a grown woman and she was capable of doing her job and looking after herself – and she didn't need him being an over-protective father on the job. Which she'd thought was exactly what he was doing while pretending like his 'rules' were keeping personal and professional separate.

Now she realized all her lip at him – and boundary pushing – had, at times, been a little immature. It'd been less of that of a grown, independent woman than it was of a girl who was still thinking she could sass back at the guy who raised her. It was a power struggle of still trying to establish her independence. Maybe it was still her becoming more of an adult and less of "Voight's girl."

And now – it was different. She was and wasn't "Voight's girl". And now the personal and professional and having the boundaries and rules seemed even more important. Now. When he wasn't her boss. But Jay still worked under him. When Hank still was the guy who raised her – and signed on as more than that on paper. When she still had a little brother who was doing his own boundary pushing and growing up. And now she had her own kids to raise – while Hank was supposed to be their grandpa.

Her and Jay needed to figure out their game plan. They needed to figure out how to compartmentalize some of this. What boundaries to setup and how. Where the personal began and the professional ended – and just how to fucking separate them. Especially for Jay. For his sanity and for the sake of their relationship and for how they were going to raise these kids – together. Not as people fighting about her family. Or overly dependant on her family. When as fucked up as her family was, they were repeatedly proving much more dependable than Jay's family. Still.

Sometimes – she'd heard stories about – a baby's arrival changing a whole family and their relationships. Babies helping bring people together and finding a way to fix relationships. Or to come to some sort of understanding and resolution – even forgiveness – because there were now other factors involved. Other people who deserved better and didn't deserve to miss out on … all sorts of things … because of your own personal baggage and the past and your inability to get over yourself.

Some of that had happened between Hank and Justin. Henry – and Olive – had helped – pushed – them to come to a better understanding. Henry had been a really positive thing for both Hank and Justin in so many different ways. And, Erin thought, in some ways for her and Jay, selfishly, the twins – even the pregnancy – had already helped them a lot. In working on themselves and getting their head's on straight and reflecting on their relationship and making them mature in ways that neither of them maybe hadn't been able to entirely grow up before – despite all the other ways life had made them both see and experience too much before.

But that hadn't really been the way it was working with Jay's side of the family. Not with his relationship with his brother or his dad. And she hadn't seen any evidence that the arrival of a niece and nephew had done anything to prompt Will to really step-up in any meaningful way yet. And, according to Jay, the only words his dad had spoken about it was "I hope you thought about how you're planning to afford two kids on your salary", followed by "Don't be expecting any help from me. You got yourself into this situation." Or at least those were the words Jay heard and his takeaway from the conversation. There hadn't been a congratulations or any sign of excitement or interest in seeing or meeting the babies.

So much so that Erin had eventually asked if Jay had told his dad that the twins had been born or if he'd just let Will do that for him. All he'd said was that he called. Nothing more and she hadn't pressed him about it. And whatever got said in that conversation – or whatever information Will was feeding Paddy – it clearly hadn't been enough to even trigger him sending over any sort of card or something. And not nearly enough that he'd attempted to come to the hospital to try to see the babies.

And Erin had mixed feelings about that. She was glad for it. Because they didn't need that in their lives. But it also hurt. And it meant even more that Hank – for all his faults and flaws and the fucking drama and stress he managed to create in their lives – he was the dependable one. He was the one who showed up. He was there for them.

That line that he toted as the biggest and most important part in parenting – and in maintaining a marriage – be there.

Eli settled again with his grandpa's eyes on him. More evidence that he seemed to prefer the men in life. Though, she knew that might be the kind of relationship Jay was going to need to have with his son too.

But in one of Hank's little vague pep talks amid his lack of words, he must've sensed that insecurity or worry in her too. Though, she didn't feel like she was hiding much of anything very well these days. She felt like she was more of a hormonal and emotional wreck now with the babies here than she'd felt the entire pregnancy.

But Hank had spouted off his own little anecdote. That Justin had been all his for years, wanting a whole lot of father-son time but shifted to being more of his mom's son. That Ethan had been the opposite – such a Mama's Boy and now he sometimes had to peel Eth off him to get some time and space at home without the kid underfoot. That parenting and relationships with your kids goes through phases. That your own personalities and interests and abilities play as much of a role as where the kids are as people and developmentally. That you might be bored with them as toddlers, have a blast with them when they're little guys, and then have it all flip again in their teens and then just keep evolving and changing as they're adults. And that as a mom or as a dad – as a person – your interests, skills and abilities might just match up different or better with the kids at different stages. Like him and the three of them.

Still Erin knew it wasn't that simple with either of his examples. There was a lot more at play in his relationships with his sons and their whole family dynamic. It wasn't just pedestals and emulating and Terrible Twos and teenaged rebellion that had caused shifts and changes in relationships in their household. But she understood what he was trying to say.

But it also didn't address another one of her insecurities. The one where she thought she had some sort of idea of how to be a boy mom – a mom to a son. But depite sharing the same reproductive organs, she still wasn't sure she had a clue how to be a mom to a girl. And she wasn't sure she'd know how to do it – or pretend to be interested for the next … lifetime – if Mattie was a complete girlie girl. Princesses and tea parties and clothes shopping and manicures and make-up? She wasn't sure if she could be that kind of mom – or woman – for her daughter.

Though, given all the other future considerations – health, developmental, physical – worrying about if Mattie was going to want a Barbie playhouse and a tutu seemed pretty fucking insignificant in terms of the challenges they might be facing with parenting and raising these kids. Maybe that was why it just felt easier to worry – and wonder – about all of that too. It was so insignificant.

Erin kept her hand against Eli's back and let her thumb rub little patterns there like Hank was still caressing gently at Mattie. And she waited for him to talk. More. To say something and to answer her question. To let her think about something different than what was going on in their little bubble at the hospital for a while.

"Those kids put E through something last June," he nodded at her.

"They expelled the kids," she offered. She still hoped that was enough – even though she knew that wasn't how it ever worked. Kids don't forget that kind of stuff. The internet doesn't let any of them forget. And a school like St. Igantius – it will be with you through your entire high school career.

"Your brother's still a bit of a pariah."

"More than before …," Erin muttered, as Hank went back to gazing at Mattie. "Why do you even leave him at that school?"

There was another smack and he looked back at her. She knew what she was going to get even as she said it. It was more wishful thinking than anything else.

"You got any bright ideas on where I should be sending him?" he rasped.

And Erin just exhaled – because she knew that there wasn't an easy answer. Not with Ethan's limitations and needs and attendance and health. Public school likely wouldn't be in his best interest. Another private school wouldn't be something the family could afford – especially now. Sending Ethan to a special needs school would make give him more of a social stigma and likely be emotionally jarring in a different way – without even getting into the costs of it. And home schooling – even though it seemed like what might work for Ethan best – just wouldn't work for the family. Instead it would likely just be more battles – and days – like this … until Ethan managed to graduate (or get his equivalency) or until he dropped out (with or without Hank's acceptance of that).

"He's a pariah. That's why he was at Al's, not the beach?" she asked.

Because that was easier – boiling it down to Al and that loss. That was easier. Easier than knowing that in addition to all that – Ethan was a social pariah. And that a year ago he'd gone through a traumatic event that was going to stay with him for the rest of his life. One that was likely going have implications for his future relationships (and his ability to form them). One that was going to have implications for his sexuality. And his self-worth and self-confidence – when he already had so many physical challenges. Something that likely haunted him and triggered him – and was still being held against him by the told who had brought it upon. And they were at the anniversary of that – and things weren't better for him. And it was just another layer for her brother to be dealing with on top of everything else.

And Hank just shook his head – like that was easier for him to. To make it about Ditch Day and the way Ethan had used that time.

"Don't know. Wasn't going to have that conversation with an audience. Didn't seem to matter much when he was covered in road rash."

"What doctor did you get downstairs?" she asked instead – because she knew she wasn't going to get anymore on what had happened that afternoon from Hank. Maybe she would from Ethan later.

"Halstead and Maggie were washing the gravel out of him," he said. "Waiting on the plastic surgeon to look at him."

"Will should be able to do a consult on that … ?"

Hank grunted. "He's not touching my kid's face."

Erin allowed a small smile at that and looked down at Eli. "I just thought it might get you out of here faster."

Hank made a little scoffing sound and went back to staring at his granddaughter. He did that. He could come for his ninety minute drop-in and sit there and not say a word. He'd just stare at the baby. And sometimes Erin let him. Sometimes that was easier for all of them.

"Jay said you still aren't seeing much of him up here," Hank rasped and gave her a small glance. It was brief but she could tell he'd just measured her reaction to his statement.

She shrugged a little and shook her head. She wasn't sure what he wanted her to say that. She wasn't sure what she wanted to say to it either. Or that there was even much to say. There'd only ever been so much she could say – or was allowed to say – about Jay's relationship with her brother. And she only ever said so much about Will too. Jay knew she had her own reservations about Will – despite him being a decent enough guy amid his flaws … and self-centered, head-up-his-ass, ego-bigger-than-his-head, chips-always-falling-off-his-shoulder-to-be-replaced-readily-with-a-new-one deposition. But they only even discussed any of that so much anymore either, because Will had taken his time with the Feds and then her months in New York as an opportunity to more than express his opinion about her and her relationship with Jay. So there'd been lines drawn there – and so far Jay's stance seemed to be mostly slanted at keeping her and Will away from each other the majority of the time. The pregnancy and the babies arrival hadn't really helped with that yet.

If anything it'd seemed to provide Jay with more reason to want to keep Will at arm's length – because he wasn't interested in hearing his opinion on much of any of it. Not their relationship. Not them as parents. Not how to parent or advocate for your child in a health care environment. And definitely not about EJ's or Mattie's health status. And Erin wasn't doing much to try to tend that bridge or calm those waters on Jay (or Will's) behalf. They were both big boys. And truth be told – she didn't want any of that holier-than-thou bullshit in the room – and their bubble – either. Especially if it got upgraded to a standing invitation for Natalie to come in and spout off her know-it-all knowledge as a mother, parent, doctor and pediatrician too.

"He doing alright?" he asked instead. "He's got his head on straight?"

And Erin looked at him. She knew he didn't really need to ask that if he'd talked to Jay that day. She knew he didn't really need to ask that when he'd been in-and-out of their hospital room at least every second day for this past month. But he was looking to see how she'd answer.

"Yep," was all that she gave. But she knew they both knew that that wasn't remotely accurate. But it also just she also knew Jay was going to get through this. Even though he was struggling. She saw him fight against his emotions nearly daily. Him trying to bury them. But there'd also been times he'd just stopped trying.

And she'd seen Jay cry. Really cry – about how helpless he felt and how scared he was for the babies and how much he also was feeling like he was failing as a parent already and wasn't protecting them the way he was supposed to. But they both were.

So they were struggling. They both were. And they'd done a lot of crying together. And they'd done a lot of trying to push each other away and bury their emotions. And then they'd broken down some again. Over and over these past weeks. So much that she wasn't sure if their heads were on straight – but she also felt like this was the way they were supposed to feel. And they must be doing something right – since they were pushing through it together. So she thought – they were alright. They both were. Even though – all of this, it wasn't alright.

He looked at her. And looked. And then nodded the side of his head off at the sliding door. "These places, sometimes, still, today's day and age," he said. And he left it for a moment. "Just make sure the nurses know …"

"Me, Eli and Mattie all want him here, Hank," she said. "Jay just …" she shook her head and sighed. He was still looking at her, waiting. "You know how he is when he's one a case. Sometimes he needs a few minutes to walk away. And sometimes I just need him to walk away for a few minutes. We all do. That's all."

She didn't want to – couldn't – say that there were aspects of all of this – the babies, Al, work – that was triggering to Jay. That there were moments where you could see his anxiety rising and it had implications for the way he acted. And it made him difficult to be around for the staff – critical and overbearing and too forceful in his questions and demands of them. And sometimes – she needed a break from his agitation and anxiety when it was reaching that restless level in him too. And he needed to remove himself from the room to get it away from the babies – and to center himself before he tipped over into a PTSD episode too. Because that wouldn't be doing anyone any good either.

But Hank didn't need it phrased that way. He could read between the lines. He already had. He'd seen it and measured it and that's why he'd lobbed those questions at her.

"What you've got planned for Ethan's birthday?" she asked, because she wasn't going to talk about that more. Not behind Jay's back. And because she needed some extra noise and distract that afternoon too. She didn't need the silence – that wasn't silent. She wanted to drown out all the beeping.

Hank grunted and looked back at Mattie. "Not much after today."

"Right …," Erin mumbled.

She got another smack and a look.

"What happened to a fishing trip?" she asked.

"Doesn't want to do that."

"Jurassic World?" she tried.

His head just shook. She knew that answer too. Ethan already told her he was waiting for her before he'd go. And she didn't know when that would be. Not with the babies now. But she'd made sure the twins – and magic of Amazon shipping – would be bringing a bit of Jurassic World to her brother for his birthday. Because you were never too old for dinosaurs – not when you had little nephews and nieces to help celebrate your birthday and to play with you.

"Is the new Antarctic dinosaurs exhibit open yet?" she suggested. He'd been talking about that all winter. It'd been one of his favorite topics. Repeatedly attached to a really sad joke about "winter is coming … this summer." A comic, Ethan was not.

"Father's Day weekend," Hank muttered. Though, she knew that wouldn't be his idea of a great Father's Day outing. But she also knew that if Ethan really had his heart set on getting into it on its opening weekend – Hank would go.

He looked at her and she could see he was biting his tongue again. That he was about to tell her again that Ethan really wanted the green-light to come over on his birthday. To be finally 'old enough' for the NICU to admit him without a hassle and for him to get to meet his niece and nephew through more than looking at them from the glass window weeks ago.

"He put in his request for his birthday meal yet?" she offered instead.

"Mmm …," Hank allowed. She saw a little smile at that but he'd gone back to looking at Mattie.

"Let me guess," Erin tried. "Brats, cob corn and your mom's potato salad."

It got an amused little noise and Hank gave her another look. "Been told his order depends on if you two are stopping in."

Erin raised an eyebrow. "Is it a better or worse menu?"

"Wants me to smoke up some pork ribs and chicken legs."

Erin allowed a little nod. "I think maybe you should stick with the brats."

"Mmm …," he grunted and looked back at Mattie again. He'd expected that answer. But Erin knew it also wasn't the answer he expected.

"You want to hold her?" she asked.

His head came back around and looked at her. But the glimpse of hopefulness faded. "Not sure Jay'd be up for that," he said and nodded at the door like he might be back any time now.

Erin looked at him squarely, though. "He needs to get used to it."

Hank's eyes stayed on her. Measuring her – and the whole situation – again.

"Mattie might be going home in a couple days, Hank," she said. His eyes processed. "She's handling all her own oxygen. She's regulating her body temperature." Erin gestured at the raised hood on her crib. "Her heart is doing what it's supposed to. They're putting her through the discharge tests. If she keeps this up, she's going to be home by Ethan's birthday. So … you'll need to use our grill. And then … we're going to need help, Hank. When we're both over here. With Eli."

That sat there. "How much longer?" he asked.

She allowed a small shrug. "A while," she allowed. "They aren't even trying to tell us yet with him."

Hank exhaled at that and went back to looking at Mattie.

"Do you want to hold her?" she asked again.

His head nodded a bit. But it was still a long moment before he looked back at Erin. "Not sure how …"

Erin allowed a little amused sound at that but gestured at him. "I'll get her for you. I'll just need you to hold Eli for me." His face betrayed him – and his own fears. "He's a lot stronger than he looks."

Hank nodded again and stood. He gestured at his shirt. "Should I …?"

Erin shrugged a little as she started to adjust herself – and Eli – to make the pass-off. "Sure," she allowed. "Or you can go ask for a smock."

She didn't think he'd even heard that option – or cared for it – he was already undoing the buttons down his front. He stood next to her chair like he expected her to hand her son up to him, but she shook her head a bit and fidgeted with the blankets.

"Just …," she sighed and then reeled it in. "Ignore the show …"

She really didn't need to say it. Hank wouldn't have looked anyway. And even if he had, after growing up in a house with little brothers and rooms without locks on the doors while all sharing one bathroom and doing her share of teen-aged drunk parties, puking all over herself, she was sure any kind of 'show' wouldn't be something Hank hadn't already caught glimpses of before. Reality was she was almost more concerned he'd see the mess the emergency crash c-section and its slow healing had left than any peek he'd get at her barely-producing-milk breasts. But his eyes were completely set on EJ anyway.

She scooted to the front of the seat and worked the little bit of the cut-apart core muscles she had left to get to her feet, letting the blanket fall partway down as she clutched her baby.

"Sit," she said to Hank – and he did. His eyes were set on Eli. She didn't think he'd even registered the skin she was showing. So she didn't either. She made herself not.

She leaned forward, supporting Eli and then holding him out with a little squawk at being moved away from the warmth of her skin. But it was only momentary, as she provided support to get him settled against Hank's bare chest and his arms came up to hold him. As they completely engulfed him – his hands were so big and EJ was still so small.

"There's my man …" Hank rasped at him, a quiet smile settling across his lips as Eli settled right in.

Erin adjusted Eli's tubes and monitors, draping them back up over Hank's shoulder and the back of the recliner as he settled in. As they both did.

Then she reached to pull up the zipper of her hoodie and noticed the skin-to-skin with her son had managed to get her breast to seep a small amount. She swiped it up with her finger and leaned in again to smear it on Eli's rosebud lips. His little mouth found it and she let him take the tip of her finger for a moment. Though, there wasn't much there for him.

She pulled it away. "Give him your pinky," she instructed Hank. "We're trying to encourage him with the suckling."

Hank did and Eli didn't seem too interested but then took it. And Hank smiled even more quietly down at him. His other hand came up and cupped – engulfed – around Eli's little head and his finger there moved too – finding his ear and stroking at it. Eli made his quiet little coo.

"Had me waiting all month for this, little man," Hank did in his graveled whisper.

Erin watched for a long moment. Because she knew Hank had been waiting for this for more than a month. That Hank – and Camille – had been waiting for this, or something like it, for closer to seventeen years. That a moment like this was part of the reason they'd made all those sacrifices and thought she was worth it. That this – a family, a life, some happiness and purpose – that was all they'd really wanted for her. And what they'd worked so hard to give her even when she fought them – and herself and everyone around her – so much.

And it hit her hard. So hard she had to turn away and try to pull herself together. Because this was a happy moment. And it was a moment for Hank. And Camille – somewhere. And for Eli and for Mattie.

She busied herself with gathering the sling to have added support when you were kangarooing both the babies at the same time. Her and Jay both loved it. It was a feeling that she didn't have words to describe. But she knew Hank wasn't one who needed words anyway.

She moved back to him and looped it around his neck. He barely looked up – he was so set on his grandson – until she settled it against his chest.

"Just loop that around his bottom," she told him.

He gave he a bit of a look. "I've got him," he said with a touch of hurt annoyance.

"You're going to need a free arm," she said.

He gazed at her but she just walked over to Mattie's crib. Getting her daughter picked up had been much easier the past thirty-six hours. There was a lot less equipment attached to her. But Mattie still protested a little at the disturbance.

"Shh …," Erin hummed at her, as she brought her up to her chest. "You're going to see Popa."

She swayed Mattie a little, holding her tightly with her one arm and then reaching to draw her lone monitor over with them. Hank watched carefully – though he seemed torn on if he should be looking at them and gazing star-struck down at Eli that he'd seemed so nervous around until that particular moment.

Erin settled herself in front of them and steadied Mattie and then she dipped again. She reached for the sling and Hank moved his one arm. His momentary awkwardness showed again – something Hank wasn't entirely sure about. Those things never seemed to happen often – at least ones that he let on.

So she helped him. She settled Mattie into the sling – her curling right into it and right up with her brother. And then settling right into Hank's chest with a big yawn – stretching out and finding Eli until their little hands flexed together.

And Hank just stared at them. Stared and stared. And she did the three of them too. Her eyes exhausted and glassy – and Hank's looking glassier and even more distant in their presence than hers.

Until finally he just managed, "Oh wow."

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **And that is very likely it. It is where I have been intending to end it.**

 **Due to some requests, I'm considering three additional chapters. A Hank/Ethan to set Eth's perspective on things, how he's dealing with them and set some stage for what his future might look like/road he's going to travel. A family chapter (which would be Ethan's birthday dinner/Mattie's homecoming) so would include everyone. And then an Erin/Ethan chapter, with them chatting and resolution (and him meeting Eli officially).**

 **However, I don't know if/when those will happen. I'm OK with this series ending here. And I think I need some time to let it sit.**

 **As I've said before, I've had other requests about backtracking in this particular stories, as well as others in the series to do some scenes/chapters that got skipped or missed. Or to explore certain scenes or moments or contexts from past episodes in S2-4. Right now the only one I've been working on is a fluff scene (fun, silliness scene) from So It Goes set on their Easter Break trip. I'm not ruling out writing them — but again, I just need some time to let this sit for a while.**

 **And, yes, I had planned to do a short set of scenes set in the future. I'm still figuring out what the context would be and exactly what I want to show/establish in those scenes and how to give some real resolution to the AU. So again — it's a matter of letting it sit for a while. So it might be several weeks or more before you see them. Unless real inspiration (and time) hit.**

 **Again, thank you to all the readers who stuck it out and who have read, commented and reviewed over the course of this entire AU series. I truly appreciate it. I'm glad many of you got some enjoyment and/or distraction out of it all.**


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